


Beyond the Walls

by MGWinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Biblical References, Blood, Cultural References, Dead People, Decapitation, Doctor Who References, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fun, Magic, Original Character(s), Protective Dean Winchester, References to Drugs, References to Shakespeare, References to the Beatles, Rough Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:33:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MGWinchester/pseuds/MGWinchester
Summary: An angel's grace is a powerful entity that allows angels to possess celestial powers. Without it's grace, a angel is just as weak and fragile as a human. In rare occasions, an angels grace has the ability to turn into other living things such as flowers and trees. Although one case which has never been recorded is when a angels grace turns into a person. As Castiel is now his mortal self, he frantically searches for his grace to return to the angel he once was, but what happens when his grace finds him first?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story will take place around the current events of Supernatural (season 12) and will contain spoilers.

_ Grace _ ; A powerful celestial energy. A type of divine energy that is the difference between angel and human. All angels carry this powerful celestial energy inside them which give them the abilities angels possess. It would be their strongest and weakest points. However when an angel loses their grace they turn into something no angel wants to become; a fragile human. There have been the odd cases of grace turning into plants, flowers or trees...but a human? The thought used to be insane. If you asked an angel if they heard of a grace turning into a human the angel would laugh, if they were capable of laughing that was, and probably kill you on the spot. However, on a single lonesome stormy night, that was exactly what happened.

 

* * *

 

To the small sleepy town the ongoing treacherous storms were no longer an odd occurrence. For the past month every other day at exactly seven o’clock the wind would begin to pick up in a rough howl. The chilling sound like a high pitched shriek would echo in the distance while the power of it banged against doors and windows and ruffle trees. That would go on for about an hour and then the rain would begin. No, this wasn’t the type of storm which would start out slow and gradually get to the powerful break point where rain would fire in every direction, beating down everything in it’s path. The rain would start up and instantly it would begin to downpour. Within minutes the suburban streets would begin to fill with waer as the drains overfilled bringing up all the vial and sewage that was hiding underneath. 

It was every children’s dream and every adult’s nightmare. Come the morning the children would celebrate a day off school and proceed to arm themselves in galoshes and big yellow rain coats and get themselves soaking wet as they played in the overfilled streets outside. Meanwhile, adults would curse the weather and watch as their basements overflowed with water and damaged everything. They would have to face wet shoes when they went outside to get into their freshly washed cars and drive off to work after spending hours trying to find a last minute babysitter for their home bound children. The town of Burr Oak, located fourteen miles from Lebanon, Kansas, used to think these storms were a weird occurrence. Hell, even now every meteorologist in the State were trying to figure out what was causing these storms, however they’ve become normal now. Every other day each adult would dread and every children would hope the storm of the century to come ringing through their town. 

On a particular August evening the storm was making itself known. The winds squealed through the town and off into the distance. The forest, just off the only road in and out of town - one rarely used by anyone due to the amount of deer crossings and potholes-, was the perfect place for teenagers to hang out. On a regular Saturday night teens would be hosting parties, hooking up or getting high if only the rain wasn’t the ultimate party pooper. In the open area just off of the road, a single, pale and muddy hand stuck out from out of the ground. Like a zombie, the  _ thing _ slowly pulled itself up...herself up. The female figure was covered in mud and dirt, it only thing that kept her even the littlest bit modest. She wore no clothes, her pale, skinny body was bare and shivering as she gave the final heave to pull herself up from the ground and roll on her back where she was able to catch her breath. Rain spat down on her, cleaning her face off just a bit. She was gorgeous. The curves of her body matched one of a model, her breasts perky and large but not in the sense that it was too much. Not like the people who botch themselves up with plastic surgery. No it was all natural, from her ass, breast and up to her face. Her face was one with little to no imperfections. She was beautiful in every sense of the word...almost too beautiful. Inhumanly perfect. 

For the moment, that didn’t matter. She was on a mission as she regained the energy that it took from pulling herself out of the ground. Using a nearby tree as support, the girl began to slowly stand up like a baby would for the first time. Skaily she held onto the branch for dear life but that didn’t help much as she ended up collapsing quickly. That didn’t stop her. Once again she tried to stand up slowly, using the tree for balance. Her legs felt like jello, her arms almost numb but she couldn’t stop now.  _ He  _ needed her. She couldn’t let him now. Not now. 

After a few consistent tries she was able to stand with help from the tree. Next step was trying to walk. Just put one foot in front of the other. Shakily she did just that but she almost lost her balance and was so close to plummeting to the dirty earth once again but she caught herself just in time. One step...then another...then another. She wasn’t perfect at it by far but she had gotten good enough to the point where she made it to the road leading into town. 

She made her way down the road like an injured animal; slow, fragile, and determined. It was a sight that you couldn’t help but feel sorry for however at the same time it was almost too cruel and sad to look at. To any sane human being the blonde beauty, who was slowly limping at the side of the road, had to have something mentally wrong with her. That or perhaps she’s been through something we could only imagine. Those crimes we hear about on TV a lot but we’re sure will never happen to us. Murders, rapes, torture victims...one thing was prominent, she was like a bad car crash. Tragic, sad and horrible yet you just can’t look away. Maybe that was the reason the old, green VW van stopped at the side of the road. 

The van was nothing impressive. Dating back from the 70’s the trash bin on wheels was rusted around the bottom and along the wheels. With every move it coughed and shot dying car sounds into the stormy midnight air. The paint job was long worn and chipped but even with a fresh coat of paint it wouldn’t help make the van any more attractive than it did now. Every couple minutes it shot a large black cloud of smoke through the air which soon disappeared into the carbon filled filth we breath now. It slowly traveled up and up and greatly benefited the crisis we know as global warming. 

A old woman slowly rolled down the window to the van. She was the type of woman who looked like a cookie baking grandma with several grandchildren, a loving husband and a cat named Snowball. Snowy white hair sat on top of her head in a 80’s styled perm. The elderly lady smiled sweetly at the walking disaster on the side of the road. Luck was certainly with that girl today. Among all of the people who could be coming down the road the old lady, one who could certainly do no harm to anyone, stopped to pick her up. God forbid something completely awful would happen to the woman otherwise. A truck of rowdy men all interested in pinning her against the wall and doing unthinkable things to the petite blonde. Perhaps your creepy neighbourhood murderer who figured this kill would be one of the easiest. 

   “Do you need a ride, hon?” she asked. You would have to be considered insane to take in someone like a naked woman from the side of the road. Afterall, she had to have something wrong with her...right? For the elderly woman, she saw a wounded animal in need of help...plus her own curiosity was sparking her interest. If she didn’t stop for her then someone else would, someone who certainly wouldn’t be thinking of just dropping the woman off at her destination or at the local police station. 

The woman just blankly stared back at her as if she didn’t even register what the woman said.  _ Is she deaf?  _ The elderly woman asked herself. Still, she kept that friendly, welcoming smile on her face. “Do you know anyone in town I can bring you to?” Nothing. She opened the side door of the van which squeaked all the way open. “Come on, dear. Let’s get you some clothes and make you something to eat, okay?” The blonde woman, contemplating for a moment, had then stepped into the van, closing the door behind her. The elderly woman shrugged off the grey sweater she wore and handed it to the girl. “So is there?” she asked, hoping that she could at least get one word from the naked woman. Just a destination, name, age, even a simple hello would do wonders. “A place I can bring you, I mean? Why were you out on the highway in your birthday suit?” but the blonde woman stared back at her absentmindedly. No, she wasn’t deaf. She watched the elderly woman drive and paid attention to the words she said...almost too much attention. She could hear her but it was like whatever sense of the English language she had was just not there. Or maybe she was just ignoring her? Mute was the next thing the elderly lady was thinking of. “Alright, i’m going to bring you to my house then. We can get you some nice clothes, a cup of tea and you can even stay there for the night. How about that, huh?” Not even a head nod. 

The woman’s house was located in a equally damp part of town along a row of identical houses all owned by elderly people hiding inside and away from the pouring rain, just like the rest of the city. You could picture bright maple trees sitting on the ends of each person's lawns and children playing in the streets when they came over to visit their grandparents. Afternoon barbeques would be common in the summers, you could practically taste the ribs, pulled pork, steak and all those other wonderful meats in your mouth while the scent rose up through the air and infiltrated everyone's homes. 

The girl followed the woman inside the house where she sent her up to a small room on the second floor, handed her an outfit and told her to get washed and come downstairs when she was done. It took a little bit but eventually she shrugged on a comfy maroon sweater that said ‘Stanford University’ along the front in university style font. The comfy grey track pants she wore were a little too big and caused her to step on the ends while she walked. There was a mirror in the corner which had several pictures on it. One that the blonde woman noticed first of all was a photo of the elderly lady...except she wasn’t exactly elderly anymore. Her brown hair only had tints of grey throughout and there weren’t as many wrinkles on her aged face. She had a double chin but she certainly wasn’t overweight yet not skinny either. She wore a shirt with a cartoon face on it, one that the woman didn’t recognise. On the shirt were the words ‘Goofy’ whatever that meant. Beside her was a taller man with a large beer belly and thinning scalp. He proudly wore a white moustache which, the girl would imagine, tickled his nose all the time. He, as well, wore the same Goofy shirt. Between them was a little girl, not caucasian like the couple. Asian. She had a darker skin, a mix between olive and tanned. Her skinny brown eyes shone with enthusiasm and hope, she couldn’t have been more than twelve, her expression - her eyes - showed it.  It was like watching a child wake up early on Christmas to see the presents under the tree and the stockings filled with goodies. It was the beautiful faith and hope and fun that many adults lost. 

The thing that turned the blonde off was not the hat which looked like two black mouse ears sitting on top of the child’s head nor was it the shirt that had what appeared to be a cartoon mouse wearing red shorts with two white buttons on them. It was the fact that same mouse on her shirt stood next to the happy family. Not in cartoon form, a costume of course but what she didn’t understand was why. Why was it necessary to take a photograph with a man dressed as a mouse? The blonde shook her head, humans...unpredictable little creatures. 

Now was the first time she was able to see herself. The first thing she noticed was her eyes. They were a beautiful bright blue, one that could have shone a way in the dark. Her skin was still sickly pale, she probably would end up having a cold by the end of the week. She was a small girl, both weight and height wise but she wasn’t necessarily all skin and bones. She had her fair bit of muscle on her which helped pull her way out of the ground only a couple hours ago. Her long blonde hair was damp and straight making it look darker than it’s actual colour of dirty blonde. Angelic. Perfect...all too perfect. Eerily perfect.

The blonde walked downstairs and watched the elderly lady begin to make something in the kitchen. The kitchen was light and welcoming. The walls were in desperately in need of a repainting, it looked as though they were left in the 70’s. The white was beginning to turn a creamy colour, the yellow flowers on the wallpaper brightened up the place almost too much. “Ah, much better.” Said the lady, turning to look at the girl standing by the door. “Head into the living room and take a seat. The tea is almost done.” Slowly the blonde began to make her way into the living, or what she presumed was the living room. Like the living room, the walls were covered in green and cream wallpaper. Matching couch and two large recliners were pushed up against each wall, a wooden coffee table separating them and aimed towards a small bunny-eared television. 

The girl didn’t sit down just yet, her eyes looked over the little knick knacks that covered every surface. From bowls of candy, little bells from different countries and about ten snow globes. A little container had caught her attention with the words ‘In loving memory of Ash Rutherford’ written on the front. “So, do you have a name, dear?” The elderly woman asked. “My name is Marlene.” Slowly the blonde opened her mouth to speak, words came out slowly like a toddler’s would the first time they say their first words.

   “Ash” she answered, the first name that came to mind. Marlene smiled, relieved that she got at least one word out of the woman’s mouth.

   “That’s a beautiful name. It was the name of my late husband. Oh but he passed away years ago. I’ve been on my own for a while now.” A high pitch shriek interrupted their lack of a conversation. “Tea’s on.” Marlene called over the scream. Ash quickly put her hands over her ears and watched as Marlene took off the metal banshee sitting on the oven and it ceased the screams. Ash went to sit on the green couch while Marlene walked slowly over and handed her a glass cup painted white and decorated with small pink roses along the brim. “I do hope you like tea.” Ash stared into the glass. The hot liquid was warm on her cold fingers, a warm white steam rose from the top and disappeared into the air quickly. It was a light brown colour with a bubble at the side and the more Ash moved the glass the more the liquid moved with her. 

Ash looked over to Marlene who brought the glass cup up to her lips and took a slow slip so Ash copied. Slowly she lifted the cup from the matching saucer it stood on, brought it to her lips and took a sip. It was hot, Ash almost dropped the cup when it stung the top of her lip however if she got past that it was also comforting. The tea was sweet but that didn’t bother Ash. Ash could feel it running down her body, warming her throat as it dropped into her chest and into her stomach. “Ah, be careful with it. It’s a wee bit hot right now, love. You may want to blow on it just a little bit before taking a sip next time.” Marlene put the cup up to her lips again, taking small, fragile breaths of air and then took a sip. So Ash tried again. Mimicking the old lady she put the cup up to her lip and began to blow however the liquid ended up spilling over the edge and landing on the saucer below. Marlene smiled warmly, Ash was almost about to duck away in shame. Why shame? She couldn’t explain it herself but she did something wrong, she blew too hard and now she was ashamed...why? “It’s okay, dear. Take smaller breaths, just enough for the top of the tea to ripple a bit.” Ash tried again, putting the cup to her lips and blowing but this time not as hard. The lightness of her breath made the light brown liquid ripple a little, stopping when the liquid collided with the wall of the cup. Ash made her move to take another sip, this time it was a better temperature. Enough so it didn’t burn when touching her lip. The tea stayed at a warm temperature as it raced down her body, warming her up whole. “Do you like it?” she asked and Ash greatly nodded and smiled. 

   “It’s very well.” She responded and went back to sipping the tea. Marlene chuckled and nodded back to the girl. 

   “Now.” Said Marlene as she sat her saucer and cup down on the wooden table beside the green recliner she sat in. She gently placed her wrinkled hands in her lap and faced the blonde girl who was already halfway done her tea. “Is there a number I could call for you? Someone who can pick you up?”

   “Number?” Ash turned to look at Marlene as if the concept was foreign.

   “Yes, a phone number.” she explained farther, picking up the black landline which was mounted on the wall by the recliner. Ash squinted towards the phone as if it were a small insect which needed termination. The blonde shook her head no and returned back to her tea. “Is there someone who know who now can come pick you up and I can look them up in the Yellow Pages?” Although Ash wasn’t quite sure what she meant by ‘Yellow Pages’ she still gave an answer. About to shake her head no before stopping herself. For the first time she put the tea cup on the coffee table and focus on Marlene. 

   “I must see my Castiel.” she told her, determined. 

   “Does he have a last name?”

   “His name is Castiel.” Ash repeated as if Marlene did hear before. “I must see him, it’s most urgent.” 

   “I’m not sure I can help you if you don’t give me his last name, Ash. Do you know where he lives? Anywhere near here? You’re in Burr Oaks, Kansas.”

   “He is with the Winchesters.”

   “Is that his name? Castiel Winchester?”

   “No. No, he is my angel and I must find him.” Marlene smiled but there was a sense of sorrow his her tired grey eyes. She could see the sorrow and pity but not just because it was there, Ash could see it was aimed at her however she couldn’t really explain why. Her eyes held wisdom, a wise knowledge that only came from someone who's been around the block a couple times. Someone who knew things...things about Ash that even Ash wasn’t sure of. Before she was a comforting old woman and that feeling still lingered in the air now but...there was another presence of something else. Something Ash couldn’t detect...almost frightening. 

   “Why were you on the side of the road, dear?” she asked.

   “I woke up there.”

   “Woke up?”

   “I had woken up and I was in the forest. I had to find my angel.” Marlene slowly sighed and looked towards the clock in the shape of that same cartoon mouse Ash had seen in the picture up in the spare bedroom. “Well, we can figure out how to get you home tomorrow. Right now it’s almost thirty minutes till twelve and we should get going to bed, now. You’ve had a long day. You need some sleep.” Ash opened her mouth to say otherwise but Marlene clearly wasn’t going to argue with her. The old woman walked back into the yellow flowery kitchen and took a couple colorful little tablets that almost looked like candy. Together they headed up the carpeted stairs. Marlene showed Ash into the same spare room. The colour was of a fading pink and probably the only room in the house which didn’t have a ugly wallpaper plastered onto the walls. The grey shag, however, was enough to make even the most unfashionable of individuals cower. The room was well groomed, two twin sized beds sat against the wall opposite to each other with about thirty stuffed animals on each and both with a light pink comforter matching the walls. A old television sat in front of them, turned off and collecting dust from years of not being used. 

Ash sat on the bed but didn’t get in. She listened closely to the sound of Marlene walking into her room at the end of the hall. It wasn’t too hard, every movement required a large creak from the houses poor structuring. She could hear the springs of the bed begin to bounce slightly as the elderly woman got into bed and within a span of seven to ten minutes Ash heard snoring coming from the room down the hall. 

She would always be thankful for the hospitality the kind, old lady had given Ash however she just didn’t understand. No mortal could. Ash slowly got out of bed and tried to step gently down the hall. Each step sent a chilling  _ creak _ throughout the house. Ash kept turning around, afraid to see Marlene at the end of the hall thanks to the loud sounds. However each turn gave Ash a shot of relief seeing the woman was probably fast asleep. 

The rain was still heavily pouring down outside but it didn’t bother the blonde. Opening the unlocked door she quietly slipped away into the stormy, black night.


	2. Have You Ever Seen the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash continues on to find her angel.

Even from inside the bunker you could hear the downpour that was going on outside. Thankfully they were underground with their own generator so, unlike any other homes that suffered the wrath of the weather, the Men of Letters bunker had light. Mind you it wasn’t exactly great light. In some rooms the lights began to flicker on and off, some were in need of a new lightbulb. What was really weird was the small power outage at eleven. They had no power for about a minute and then it turned back on like nothing happened. 

The storm usually stopped in the early morning the next day and just went on through the night, by this point the boys were used to sleeping with the sound of thunder and rushes of wind begging to be let inside. Dean could remember his mother telling him that the sound of thunder was just the angels getting a strike in bowling and that thought put the little five year old to bed...boy was she wrong. What was different today was the rain didn’t stop. Now, about seven in the morning, the rain came down harder than ever. Sam sat in the library with a cup of coffee and his laptop on the long wooden table wondering just when the rain would come to a halt. 

   “It’s still going?” called a husky, tired voice. Dean descended from the stairs wearing his blue robe - Sam said it was for women but Dean scoffed at the thought - his hair messed up from sleeping but somehow the look suited him. The face you would want to wake up to. 

   “Never stopped.” Sam called back, the younger yet taller Winchester sat back in the wooden chair, his area of the table was blocked off. Books surrounded him and his trusty laptop like a fort which no one else could enter. The long haired moose could barely see his brother over a stack that was dedicated to reincarnation magic. It had been about time that Sam started cracking open some of the many Men of Letters journals and books which were gathering dust in the library. It might seem like an interesting read, reincarnation magic, black magic, werewolves, mummies, spells of all kinds...however much Sam tried to pay attention, the books read like code. It was nearly impossible to read without falling asleep. “I don’t think they’ve ever got a storm this bad. I keep checking to see what meteorologists say about it but they’re as clueless as everyone else.” It was odd but not supernatural. Not unless Gabriel was back and playing a trick on everyone...although making it rain a lot wouldn’t be one of Gabriel’s best works. “News is saying it’s best for everyone to stay inside for the next while. The rain went over night and flooded all the streets. There’s thousands of dollars in damage.”

   “So what? We’re just going to sit here all day?” The ruggedly handsome man emerged from the kitchen, only half paying attention to his brother. The other half of his attention went to a piece of pie he was eating. Despite it being two days old and partially freezer burnt the piece of apple pie tasted like brand new...or at least as brand new as store bought freezer apple pie could get. It was pie nonetheless, Dean wasn’t about to complain. At least Sam remembered to get pie this time, usually he ‘forgot’ and instead got some organic crap. 

   “Guess so…” Sam said, looking back to the article on his screen. “I’m curious to what caused the storm in the first place.”

   “Thought you went to university, Sammy. Shouldn’t you know this stuff?” Dean said with a light scoff and a smile on his face. Sam didn’t bother to reply. The eldest Winchester brother closed his robe, tightening it some more. He looked like one of those models on Sears Christmas catalogue, the smiling hot model wearing a robe with slight bed head and shiny white teeth as he looked to the pile of presents under the tree and the two kids who were busily unwrapping a robot and a doll. The mother would casually sit on the new sofa (available at Sears only for $499) with her cup of coffee she made on her new coffee machine (also available for the cheap price of $150).

   “It’s just...so weird that it doesn’t hit anywhere else. It’s just...a radius around us and Burr Oaks. Nobody can explain it. There was no warning and even when the storm stops there is no warning of another rainfall anytime soon. Doesn’t it seem odd to you?” Sam continued on. Dean gave a huff and rolled his eyes. 

   “Yeah but it’s not like there is anything we can do about it. Unless you think we’re dealing with a...giant weather God monster?” he asked. Now it was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. 

   “No.” Sam supported his best bitch face he could manage. Sometimes Dean wondered if Sam knew he was making the bitch face. At times wanted to grab a camera and take a picture so his brother knew exactly what damage he was doing. Sam’s facial expressions, even the mad and angry ones which sometimes scared the crap out of him, were hilarious but God forbid Dean get caught up in one of his puppy dog faces. Even though they were both grown men Dean couldn’t say no to that stupid face. “No, i’m just curious.” 

   “Well if it is something supernatural we have to do our own research, we don’t have Cas to help us out anymore.”

   “He’s taken a lot recently, Dean. It has to be hard losing your grace once. How many times is this? Two? Three times?” 

   “I know, but he can do more than sit around and watch Titanic all day. He’s taking this like a hangover. At some point he has to get over it. He did it once he can do it again.” They didn’t know. How could they? Humans are used to being weak and stupid but for an angel it’s the ultimate degrading property like wearing a dunce cap on your head and being forced to stand at the front of the whole class at school and everyone laughs and point at you and there isn’t anything you can do except stand there and take it, trying to hold back the tears. Being human is a weakness, a weakness which will kill you. Castiel didn’t get used to the human life, he learned to cope with it but not get use to it. Now it felt different, though. He could cope last time but now every time he got up he felt dizzy and doing anything except sit down and watch Titanic was torture to the poor, graceless human. Even he hated the way he acted. Now that his grace was gone he was only (and quote)  _ ‘A baby in a trench coat’.  _ What sort of benefit did he have to the team?

   “Give him time, Dean. He got over it once and he’ll get over it again.” Dean just let out a scoff yet again, sitting down across from his brother at the table where he couldn’t see Sam due to the books Sam was ignoring. 

   “Easy for you to say, his room is right beside mine. You aren’t kept up all night with that damn Titanic song going over on repeat.” With their conversation finished Sam went back to typing on his computer meanwhile Dean lazily got up, taking all the energy he could conjure up with him, and headed for the kitchen to grab another slice of pie. However the mission was cut short when there was a strong, violent knock on the front door of the bunker.

Dean paused in his tracks, the light sound of computer buttons being pressed ceased and both brothers slowly turned to look at each other, giving secret looks to each other as if it were another language only the Winchesters could understand. To any normal person a knock on the door wasn’t that big of a deal. Perhaps a neighbour, a door to door doorknob salesman. Although no one knew about the secure, sacred bunker that the Winchesters now called home. Once owned by the Men of Letters and now a hiding place for two above average hunters. No one should be knocking on the door. 

Neither brother said a word, neither one even moved until Sam had decided enough was enough and slowly stood up. Dean brought forth his knife, hiding in the pocket of his comfortable robe, meanwhile Sam cocked a gun. They stood in front of the door, tense and ready for whatever happened to pop out when they opened it up and shoot the thing on the spot. It was almost like a mental countdown. 3...2...1...and the door swung open quickly. The youngest Winchester kept the gun close to his side, but not completely in view of the woman at the door. She looked as though she had been standing out in the rain for hours. She wore only a maroon Stanford sweater, which was now damp and soaked through, and long track pants in the same state. Her wet blonde hair hung over her face eerily. It was just a girl.  _ ‘A hot girl’  _ Dean noticed. Even in the baggy, wet clothes he could admire her face and her body. He almost let loose a flirtatious smile but caught himself at last minute. 

The Winchesters had to be one of the most unluckiest people ever. Upon dying a million times, causing the apocalypse, their mother dying when they were young and their father dying later, as well as being cursed to hunt monsters for the rest of their lives both brothers decided to give up on luck. So really, what were the odds that out of the blue a random hot woman would be standing at their door? It wasn’t a porno movie so the chances were slim. So sadly, for Dean, he knew he couldn’t trust her. Sam was the one who decided to speak first, opening his mouth but the drenched woman beat him to the punch. 

    “Where is Castiel?”

 

* * *

 

While the Winchester were the unluckiest people on the planet Ash had to be the luckiest...if you could consider her ‘people’ that is. Ash easily snuck out of Marlene’s house a little after midnight that night without any problems from the sleeping woman. She went undetected through town. Thanks to the storm all the lights in town had gone out and left everyone in the dark. It seemed almost post apocalyptic. With the rain beating down on the poor woman walking through town she spotted no people. Not even in convenience stores and gas stations. Everything fell silent, if you ignored the sound of angels getting strikes and the downpouring rain then the only sounds would be the near by transformer lowly humming. She had been walking for about thirty minutes, making it to the familiar highway that Ash was walking along before the VW van stopped and offered her a ride and tea. The rain didn’t bother her, Ash’s mind was stuck on one thought and one thought only and that was of Castiel. She couldn’t exactly pin point where he was, in fact, she had no clue aside from a growing feeling in her gut that told her, like a radar or a GPS device, that she was getting closer to the angel. It was like one of those games you played as children, or maybe one of those games that siblings used to torture the other one with. Someone would hide a pencil or the remote for the TV and the only way for you to find it was walking around the room while the hider called out hot or cold if you were getting closer or farther away from the device you longed for. Each step she took was her getting hotter, she could feel it warming her heart and powering her body. She felt herself getting stronger because of it and that would be the reason the rain didn’t bother her. 

However her body still shook and shivered as time went on. The downfall to being human. She crossed her arms over her chest as if that would keep her warmer. Not once did she stop. A couple cars passed her on the highway, one or two slowed down as if to get a look at the freak show on the side of the road but none stopped to offer her a ride. Not until about an hour later. Ash could hear the little, broken down car coming down the road from a mile away. It made grotesque and sick noises each time it moved. Black smoke poured out of the exhaust pipe. The man drove a lemon. The car was rusted around the edges of the doors and around the wheels. The hood was yellow, the body was green, one door was red, two blue and one a sick colour of white. Grey duct tape covered the back passengers side window, preventing most of the rain from getting inside the lemon.  _ Bum bum PUM! Bum bum PUM!  _ It screamed over and over again into the early morning. It wasn’t safe but Ash didn’t care nor did she notice. 

The man who sat in the driver's seat was about as impressive as the car itself. He was korean with dark brown eyes that almost looked black and a thin black pubic moustache which sat on his top lip. He was oddly tanned as if he had just spent too long in a tanning bed and came out looking like a orange Troll doll rather than a human being. His brown eyes were blotched red, he was either hung over, drunk or high or a combination of both. He smelled worse than the car did. One wif as he rolled down the window and it would match the smell of stale milk. His grey Tony Hawk shirt was stained with only God knows what and his sweats matched. 

   “You need a ride, babe?” he asked, leaning his head against the wheel. He had to look her over twice in order to tell if he was getting the right image. Aside from being soaking wet as well as if he overlooked the fact that she was just wandering by the side of the road without a coat, umbrella or even shoes in the wee hours of the morning, he could totally bang her. Ash nodded slightly, opening the passenger's side door - which almost came off it’s hinges when she did - and got in the puny little vehicle. “So uh...where are you going?” he asked, beginning the drive down the road and once again his car started up the same rhythm of  _ bum bum PUM! Bum bum PUM!  _

   “I am meeting my angel.” She answered without bothering to look at the disgusting little man.  _ ‘Great, she’s one of those weird religious people.’  _ The man thought to himself sarcastically. He waited for a couple minutes, he expected her to elaborate or maybe even to laugh and say she was joking but all the woman did was watch out the window at the passing trees. 

   “Right…” he muttered “And where is he?” the man asked again.

   “With the Winchesters.” Was Ash’s response, still not looking towards the man in the driver's side of the car. The stale milk smelling, orange korean driver waited again. Waited for her to explain who the hell these Winchesters were and where the fuck she wanted to be dropped off. Any previous thoughts about banging the girl had gone out the window. Now he just wanted her creepy ass out of his car. 

It took another hour to get any sense of direction out of the girl which ended up only being a series of ‘turn left, turn right...go back, turn left again.’ and repeat. In the end the man drove to a random bunker just off of Lebadon, Kansas. “This is it.” she announced. The man pounded on his breaks and the car came to a halt. The moment Ash stepped out the man closed the door and quickly took off in another direction as if trying to get away before she noticed that she’s come to a dead end and wanted a ride somewhere else to find ‘her angel’. However Ash wasn’t lost, she almost smiled at the bunker from the outside, knowing her angel was inside. 

She went to pull on the handle to get inside but the heavy, iron door didn’t budge. She tried again but there came the same response so she pounded on the door as if hitting it would make it open. After a couple minutes it did but she wasn’t alone. Two men stood in front of the door, tense and hesitant of her. “Where is Castiel?” She wasted no time. She tried looking past the men with the knife and the gun (if they thought they were being casual by hiding them they were far mistaken). She couldn’t see her angel. “Where is Castiel? I must see him.” She demanded again. Ash charged forward, pushing through the two grown men who looked like they could break the petite girl if they wanted. She had gone through them, pushed them out of the way as if they were only as light a child. 

   “Hey!” the men called 

   “Castiel! I must speak with Castiel!” Ash’s voice raised and echoed throughout the bunker. 

   “Hold up.” Said the man with the knife, holding his threateningly while his partner aimed his gun. If they wanted to scare her, it wasn’t working. Ash smiled prettily and laughed. 

   “If you think your puny mundane weapons can harm me you’re more foolish than I had originally thought.” Dean scoffed a bit at her comment but didn’t dare put down his weapon. 

   “Okay, so you’re not human. What are you then?” he asked

   “Of course i’m not human. It just sort of appears i’m...trapped in the body of some worthless mundane.” Ash shook her head and sighed. Getting back on track the girl turned to Dean and Sam again and demanded the same question that she has been asking since she arrived at the bunker. “Now where is Castiel?”

   “What’s going on?” The fourth voice spoke up, the man stood gripping onto the bottom of the stairs as though his life depended on it. The familiar trench coat wearing angel looked at though he had come across the worst flu since the plague. His skin was a sick olivey colour and his heavenly blue eyes now appeared as though they were a sewage water grey. Large, dark bags hung under his eyes, his shirt was half unbuttoned and untucked with the tie loose around his neck. Castiel’s midnight black hair was messily thrown all over his head as though he had just woken up from a thirty year nap. Taking a couple shaky steps towards the group Ash walked toward to meet him although paused when she noticed the Winchesters weapons still aimed at her. One more step towards the sick angel and she probably would wind up with a hole in her chest.

   “Castiel.” Ash said with a sigh of relief, a small smile forming on her lips. 

   “Who is she?” Castiel questioned, looking towards Sam and Dean.

   “I don’t know, that’s what we’ve been trying to figure out.” Dean answered back.

   “I believe my human name is Ash.” she finally spoke up “Castiel, I am your grace.”


	3. Stuck in the Middle With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ash, Dean, Castiel and Sam all gather in the library to discus the obvious problem about Castiel's grace being human.

The four of them sat along the wooden table in the library, all sitting quietly just staring at each other as if daring each other to speak up next. Everyone was trying to understand what was happening even though Ash had just explained it for the third time already. To be fair, it was hard to grasp the concept of an angel's grace turning into a human. Questions ran through the boys’ heads. If his grace was now Ash was there some possibility of getting it back? Did Ash now have powers? How exactly did this all come up? Really, it was too much for Sam and Dean to comprehend so, for the fourth time, Sam spoke up to ask what happened...again. 

   “Okay so...you’re Cas’ grace?” Sam asked again a little hesitantly. He was just able to get that fact through his head, even though it made no sense. 

   “Yes, what are you? Deaf? I explained this three times already. Need I explain again?” Dean, Castiel and Sam all nodded to say yes. Ash let loose a loud huff of annoyance and once again started her story. “I don’t know much, really. As I have explained I have only been human for a couple hours or so. What I do know is that I am Castiel’s grace. I just...woke up at the side of some road and I have been trying to get to Castiel since then. I met a nice woman who offered me tea and this man in a colourful car. I don’t know if I am suppose to be human or not. Grace aren’t suppose to be human, if that isn’t obvious enough for the likes of hunters. I know there have been cases of grace turning into flowers or trees but never a human before. I’m as lost as you are. All I know is i’m suppose to be with Castiel. He can’t live long without me near him. However there will come a point where I am not enough for you in my human form. You need me back, Castiel. Not in this mortal state but as your true grace.”

   “You don’t think that now that you’re here with him he will get his mojo back?” Dean asked next. The messy haired man leaned against the back of the wooden chair and ran a hand down his scruffy chin. His apple green eyes were locked in with a book about  _ The Benefits of Using Dead Man’s Blood to Kill Vampires _ . The book’s information was enough to fit on a pamphlet however somehow the Men of Letter wrote enough about this dull topic to fill a book with about a thousand pages. Dean wasn’t at all interested in the book, he was only longingly staring into distance while he gathered his thoughts.

   “If by ‘mojo’ you are referring to his abilities then no.” Ash replied in a monotone voice, much like Castiel when he first came to earth. However the difference between Ash and Cas was Ash was almost sassy and sarcastic when she spoke. She took on the tone like she knew she was better than the hunters sitting around the long table. She had personality in her. Maybe that came from being apart of Castiel. She had to have some prior knowledge of earth then, right? To be honest, Dean wasn’t sure what to think of Ash. He wasn’t even sure he could trust her. Who's to say that Cas’ grace isn’t as bitchy and maniacal as the rest of the angels in heaven? She was her own person now, whether or not she came onto earth in the natural way. Ash was a woman who could now make her own decisions. So no, Dean couldn’t say he trusted her. 

   “What about you? Do you have those...abilities like Cas does?” Sam asked. The brothers mimicked each other's movements, Ash took note of that. Once one moved back in the chair the other did the same. When one ran his hand through his hair so did the other. Ash couldn’t tell if they were planning that or not. 

   “I’m not sure. For the moment I would have to say no but as I told you, I just arrived on earth only hours ago. I barely understand  _ what  _ I am and how to work this mundane body let alone knowing if I have any powers. As his grace I am the one who supplies the power for my angel, we’re not the ones who are suppose to use it...but I really don’t know. I’m still discovering things for myself.” Ash watched the boys lightly sigh as if the news disappointed them. Ash bit her lip lightly and carried on speaking before the next question could get rushed in. “However if I had to guess I would say that maybe I have a few powers. Certainly nothing as powerful or strong as Castiel could conceive but I have to have something to protect myself by. I’m in a human body but I still am grace. I’m not entirely human….I wouldn’t believe so at least.” She hated the fact that she couldn’t be of more help to her angel. Ash looked away from Sam and Dean and watched her beat up angel struggling to so much as sit up in the chair. He looked sick and dull and it killed Ash for seeing him like that. If she knew a way to give herself to him, she would. She wished that she could give the boys more information as well. As much as they sort of...freaked her out in all honesty...Ash knew that they were probably her only hope in trying to keep Castiel alive and return herself to him. In the meantime she was a weak and fragile human. 

   “I can try looking up something in the books the Men of Letters have.” Sam suggested, he doubted that would get them anywhere and he almost hated himself for volunteering to do so but it was worth a shot looking through the Men of Letters books. All this morning he has been trying to read through some of the books in the library and failed miserably. All along the table books were scattered, covered in dust and a few hand prints from where Sam picked them up. The shortest one had to be a thousand pages and each book looked as old as time itself. They were all handwritten, meaning they came even before the invention of the printing press. Their bindings were hand made, wrapped together in leather by experts of the time period. Along the table were about fifty books and that wasn’t even a dent in what was in the Men of Letters library. 

   “I don’t think you would find anything, Sam.” Castiel had finally found enough energy to speak up for the first time since Ash began explaining herself. With his grace near him he looked a bit better. The sickening olive colour to his skin was beginning to vanish into just a pale variation of his normal skin tone. His eyes still had that depressing sewage grey in them and he looked like he was ready to curl up and die but at least he could speak properly now. “The Men of Letters barely have anything on angels let alone their grace. I haven’t heard of such a thing happening. I don’t believe that even in all of heaven they would have much information on this. I don’t think you’ll have much luck trying to search through the Men of Letters books.”

   “Probably not, but at this point we don’t have any other information. We have to start somewhere and it’s not going to hurt anyone to go through these books. We may find something useful in them. It’s a starting point at least and worth a shot.”

Ash sat back in her chair. She was done talking and now watched the men converse back and forth with each other trying to think of something to do meanwhile Ash, in her mind, gave reason to why each of their theories were wrong. However midway through she heard a sound. It was a terrible noise. Like the grumble of a monster ready to break through the bunker and kill them all. It was threatening and low but only happened for a second. Ash tense up quickly, looking around at the Winchesters and Castiel to see if they heard anything but they still bickered back and forth. Ash froze her in spot and listened closely again. For a while the only sound she heard was Castiel, Sam and Dean but, just when she was about to give up, the sound occurred again and more scarily so, it wasn’t coming from outside of this room. It was coming from  _ her _ . 

   “What’s that sound?” Ash quickly demanded, almost jumping up out of her seat. The boys fell silent, looked at each other and then looked at Ash as if she were crazy (which none of them have really came to a concrete answer on that yet). Then the sound happened again, the same rumble like an earthquake only Ash could feel. “See? There it is again!” Stressed the girl, afraid that she was the only one who heard this horrible sound. 

Dean smiled and let out a low laugh. “What’s so funny? I thought you were suppose to be hunters but you’ve obviously let some monster inside your bunker or something of the sorts. Make it stop, please. It’s horrible.” Ash practically begged.

   “I know that sound well.” Dean still laughed, actually he was laughing almost too hard. Ash pressed her lips together in a thin line and glared daggers at the older Winchester. She still didn’t see the comedy in this. “You’re hungry.” He finally answered. 

   “Hungry?”

   “Yeah, hungry. Like you want food. I guess you’re not really familiar with that are you?” Ash slowly shook her head no.

   “I’ve never experienced hunger before. I’ve never experienced anything with being human before. I have a few memories I share with Castiel. Most are in heaven but there are some that are on earth. That is how I know who you two are and that you would all be in the bunker. I know what food is but I never had a need to have it, obviously. Although when I dug myself out of the ground when I first came to earth there was a woman who picked me up in a vehicle and took me to her house. She was nice. She gave me some liquid called tea I enjoyed.”

   “Tea is a drink, not a food. Come on, let's get you some grub then.” Dean pulled himself up from the chair, gesturing for the blonde to follow him into the kitchen which was just off from the library. 

The kitchen wasn’t your culinary dream but for Dean it was the best thing he has ever had and it beats those crappy motel kitchen which don’t even have working fridges. The kitchen was far smaller than the library Ash was in before and had a faded panelling running about halfway up the wall and then moved on to grey concrete as if the person who designed this room forgot about the top half of the wall. There was a large metal stove and sink along with a matching table with a rack of pots and pans hanging over top. It was dimly lit but light enough for someone to see around the room. Dean wasted no time in showing her around, though. He booked it towards the gleaming silver fridge and pulled out a variety of ingredients for whatever he intended on creating. “There are a ton of downfalls to being human.” Dean began to open a couple of packages while he spoke. “Although the human race can have it’s benefits sometimes. Food is one of those benefits. We’ve come up with some really amazing things over the years and they just keep coming up with more delicious things to try. There are millions of types of food in the world. Pies, burgers, fries, cake...all the good stuff.” If there was one thing he knew about aside his impala it had to be food. Dean wasn’t going to hide his passion for the greasy and unhealthy. He didn’t dine at fancy places where each dish was a hundred dollars and serves only about a nail clippings worth of food, declaring it was ‘a delicacy’. No, Dean was an expert in all things diner food. With years of eating at roadside diners you might as well give him a badge and call him an expert. “You got to eat in order to keep yourself healthy and alive.”

   “You have to eat to stay alive? That’s very inefficient.” 

   “It may be inefficient but damn is it enjoyable. Cas has lost his grace before...although you probably know that. The one thing he liked about being human was being able to taste all the different kinds of food there are. You have to remember to eat, drink and sleep to stay alive. Your body will become tired eventually and you’ll need to sleep. We have lots of rooms here you can stay in. You’ll sleep for the night and then wake up in the morning and feel refreshed and not tired anymore.” Ash watched as Dean grabbed two tanned pieces of something. Then he took a knife, but not one you would use to kill someone. This sort of knife was small and dull and very silver. He dipped it in some sort of yellow container and began to spread it on the tanned pieces of whatever. 

   “And if I don’t sleep?” Ash pressed on.

   “You’ll become really tired. Your body will hallucinate, you won’t have any energy to do anything and then your body will shut down. You’ll pass out which forces you to sleep and get a little bit of energy. He then began grabbing things from a bunch of bags he spread out on the table. Dean looked like a mad scientist in the midst of making his most evil creation ever. Automatically he began grabbing green things and red things and brown things and piled all of them on the two tanned whatevers that were covered in the yellow glaze.

   “That’s all very confusing.” She shook her head slightly “And very inefficient. The idea that you must do this in order to survive is dumb.”

   “It maybe dumb but there’s nothing we can do about it, sweetheart. Now, take a bite of this.” Dean handed her the creation he made. It was two pieces of the tanned whatever holding together a bunch of food in between. Dean cut it in half so he held the other piece, the only way that Ash knew how to hold it properly. She didn’t trust it. It looked weird and something that someone would eat. However Dean seemed so happy to just be holding it in his hands, as though this was the key to happiness. “It’s a sandwich.” he said as if reading her mind. “A turkey sandwich with lettuce, tomato,  cheese and mayo. Dig in.” Following his words the large man took a huge bite out of the ‘sandwich’ he made himself. Continuing to chew happily until he swallowed and went for another bite.

Ash searched the sandwich, looked over to Dean again as if making sure he really was eating the thing and then she took a huge bite out of it, matching Dean’s. It wasn’t the most beautiful looking thing in the world but it did taste great. It almost blew her mind how all these separate foods could come together and create a whole new taste. 

   “So?” he asked, food still in his mouth while he spoke. “What do you think?”

   “Yes, I like it.” she answered him back, watching the Winchester smile and take another bite. “Is this what all food tastes like?”

   “No...no of course not. Every food has a different unique taste depending on what’s in it and how you cook it. Some taste better than others.” Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Ash seemed to get a grip on the idea of food relatively quickly which was a relief to him. Although he didn’t know how long Ash could stay here. She couldn’t just stay in human form forever, they had to find some way to get her back into Castiel. For now he decided not to think about it and instead took another big bite into his sandwich.


	4. La Grange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With lack of information coming up about Ash, Dean decides to occupy the grace by taking her out to a bar for the night while Castiel and Sam solve the problem at hand.

“I don’t get where we are going.” The blonde questions as the impala rolled down the abandoned road into the rain burdened town. Dean sat in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel. The passenger's side was taken up by Ash since Sam stayed back at the bunker to continue on doing more research about Ash’s situation and also, although they wouldn’t admit it in front of Castiel, he was there to watch him too until they could figure out a way to get his grace back. In Cas’ state it wasn’t good for him to be left home alone, it was sad that they had to babysit their angel. In the meantime Dean was intending to keep Ash busy with useless things to do until Cas or Sam found out any useful information about her. 

   “Out for a good time.” Dean said simply, keeping his eyes glued on the road. Ash rolled her eyes at the vague response.    
   “Where is that?” Again, Dean didn’t say anything and instead pressed a button at the front of the impala. A noise filled the impala, a horrible noise that sounded like a woman screeching into the impala while some weird beeps and boops filled the noise in the background. The voice was pitchy and off key, didn’t sound natural, it sounded fake and disgusting. Frankly, she felt insulted even hearing the noise. Quickly Ash cringed, almost about to cover her ears. “What  _ is  _ that noise?” she demanded “How do you stop it?” Ash reached for the buttons in front of her and Dean. She couldn’t remember the one he pressed. There were some coloured blue and red, some were dials and others were buttons numbered from one to five. She gave up trying to figure out which ones to press and began to press all of them. 

   “Hey!” Dean called but did nothing to stop her since it was already too late. After pressing a random button or turning a random dial the music began to change. It began slow and low, there were no screaming woman’s voice in the background and the beeps and boops and replaced with a roaring down, a low mumble and...well sounds she couldn’t describe but it sounded great. Especially when the voice had spoken up. It wasn’t a woman’s but instead a man’s, there was no fakeness to his tone and instead had a sort of unique twist to it with a low rumble here and there. “This is better.”

   “You like this?” he asked as though he didn’t believe her.    
   “Yes, it’s much better than whatever was on before. This is music, right?” Ash asked, Dean turned down the volume a bit to hear her properly. Although the small beginning of a smile hadn’t phased from his face. 

   “Yeah, it’s Metallica.”

   “I’m not familiar kind of music. I know...classical...and there is that...wrapper one?” Dean laughed lightly, looking over to the girl for a second. 

   “Metallica is a band, hard rock is the genre they play.” 

   “Oh, well I enjoy it. It’s much better than that other music playing before. Was that music? I couldn’t really tell.” Dean let out a roar of a laugh. 

   “Yeah, technically it’s considered music but it’s crap. It’s modern pop. Wow, not even a day on this planet and you’ve already got good taste in music.” The song began to get into a faster tempo, the instruments in the background roaring wildly and the vocalist singing as if it were his last song he could sing and he nailed every single moment. 

   “I like this rock music. It’s very...energetic and powerful and it just makes me feel so…”

   “Awesome?” Dean answered for her, already beginning to beat on the steering wheel to the beat of the song. Ash smiled and nodded.

   “Sure, awesome.” she answered. 

   “Metallica is probably one of the best hard rock bands known to man. You got great taste, Ash. If you like them wait till you hear Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath, both great bands like Metallica.” Slowly he began to turn up the song. 

   “That’s uh...nice.” She bit her lip “What’s a band?”

 

_____________________________

 

It took another ten minutes to get into town. The streets were deserted thanks to the flood. The sewer drains were filling over with water, and garbage began to flow down the streets. It was a miracle the impala didn’t float away. Every place was closed from drug stores to gas stations however if there was one place you could count on to be open it was Eugene’s bar.

The rotted down, dirty old bar was located downtown with the only customers being bikers or drunks. There was a slight leak in the ceiling at the back and only the other day did they replace the previously broken in window from a fight that happened the week before. There was a large blue neon sign which hung over top of the building that was  _ suppose  _ to say  _ Eugene’s _ but ended up saying  _ ug  e’s  _ thanks for the burnout bulbs in the lights. Surprisingly there were about four cars parked and three bikes, all covered in rain and probably shouldn’t be ridden anytime soon. No one was going to leave the bar early tonight. The rain finally stopped however the sky still threatened rain and twisted and turned a sickly grey colour. Everything was drenched, blown over and torn apart as if a tornado had just come barrelling through the city. The sad thing was, this town wasn’t even the worse to get it. Burr Oaks had been the heart of the storm and Dean hated thinking how it looked like there. 

It was impossible to avoid the puddles as he parked the impala and the two of them escaped for cover in the torn up little bar. Inside was about as impressive as the outside. There was the bar in the centre with various stools, a couple were taken up by customers. The only eye candy was behind the bar where a scary looking woman stood, served up liquor left and right. She had jet black hair running down to the middle of her back. Tattoo’s covered her arms and about a thousand of piercings were embedded in her face. Four along her eyebrows, one in her nose, two on her lip, some on her chest and God only know what else. She looked more like a slightly feminine man rather than a woman. Tables and booths were littered around the bar and wherever there wasn’t a seat there was a pool table or a dart board and even a little stage with a karaoke machine and dance floor in front of it. Ash had a hard time picturing any of the men in the building dancing. They were your stereotypical biker men with long beards but little hair on the top of their head, black leather jackets playing pool and a rounded fat body. She had a feeling they really did think they were hell’s angels. 

Dean lead her over to the bar, sitting on the bar stool beside her. The masculine female came over and leaned on the bar so her breasts were basically falling out of her black tank top. 

   “Hey, cutie. What can I get for you?” she asked, looking directly at Dean and barely even noticing Ash sitting beside him. Was she blind? Maybe she was like a t-rex and didn’t see things that didn’t move?

   “I’ll have a beer.” Dean ordered “You, Ash?” although the girl didn’t look too impressed with having to serve her. 

   “I’ll have tea…” Dean randomly began to start laughing. Ash furrowed her brow, looking towards him. “Wh-”

   “She’s joking, yeah she’ll just have a beer as well.” 

   “Whatever you want, doll.” she said back and headed over behind the bar and sat down two cold brown bottles in front of both of them. She didn’t waste any time with either of them, she headed down to the other end of the bar where two biker men sat, drunk off of their rocker. 

   “I wanted tea.” Ash observed the bottle, there was a little hole at the top of the bottle where Ash could only assume the liquid came out. This wasn’t at all like how the tea looked like. It smelled off unlike the warming scent of tea this had a kick to it. 

   “This isn’t the place where you get tea. This is a bar. You don’t get tea here you have alcohol. Just...try the beer.” She wasn’t sure whether or not to taste it. It looked like something she couldn’t trust. However she slowly pressed the cold bottle to her lips and took a drink of the liquid. She flinched at the taste of it for a second and especially the kick after that. Dean let out a laugh. “It tastes sort of weird.” However, despite her unsureness of it, she took a sip. 

   “But you can’t stop drinking it now, right?” Dean asked and took a sip of  the beer, his reactions wasn’t nearly as unattractive as Ash’s was. 

   “I think I sort of like it.” she admitted “The alcohols are good.” he laughed again, his laugh was nice sounding. She enjoyed hearing it and it made her want to laugh along with him. Her eyes gazed over to two men standing by a pool table sitting the ball back and forth like a game. 

   “Come on.” Dean had gestured her up from her seat, taking the beer along with him. He passed the couple of men playing a game and a few other who were laughing loudly and toppling over onto the beer covered ground. In the back of the bar was another one of those tables that the biker men were playing on. Dean took too sticks from the side and handed one to Ash. “Now i’m going to show you a classic bar game called pool.” He set up colourful balls in the centre of the table in the shape of a triangle then took a white ball and set it up in front of the colourful ones. Ash just watched in curiosity and awe. “The objective of the game is to try to get all of the colourful balls into the pockets of the table. There are two teams, stripes and solids.” Dean aimed, taking his time as if this one shot decided whether or not he would keep his life. Dean shot and the white ball powerfully collided with all of the others, breaking the triangle. All of the balls began to bump off of the sides and even a couple got into the pockets, disappearing from view. “I’ll be stripes then.” he added “Now you try.”

   “I don’t know, Dean…” She said hesitantly but Dean wasn’t taking no for an answer. He gestured for her to come over to the pool table and she did, but carefully as if the table would jump up and eat her any second. “Aim your cue at that green ball there. You want to try to hit that ball with the white ball so only the green one goes into that corner hole. 

   “I’m still not sure if I can…”

   “Well you don’t know until you try.” He countered. Ash let out a huff and then lead against the table, trying to copy how Dean looked when he was aiming the cue and the ball. He had closed one eye so Ash did the same even though she wasn’t sure why that would help him win. In Dean’s eyes she looked like a child trying something for the first time. It was messy and all over the place but the determined look in her blue eyes made it fun to watch. A small smile formed along his lips as she tried to hit the white ball with the pool cue although it missed terribly, the white ball barely moved at all the the cue had come out of her hands and flung to the other side of the table. She quickly back up, cringing at the sight of what she did meanwhile a roar of laughter came out of the dirty blonde haired hunter. 

   “See? Told you I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

   “Alright, plan B.” Dean grabbed the cue again, handing it to Ash who took it as though she were taking the neck of a snake. He moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her body. His hands slid up her arms and over her hands, putting them in the correct position of holding a pool cue. Ash body went cold and stiff against his relaxed, warm body. “Loosen up a bit.” he ordered, eyes looking towards the green ball they still needed to get into the pocket. Ash tried to loosen up but she found it hard. With Dean touching her as much as he was all she was able to do was tense and feel as goosebumps began to run down her arms, hoping that Dean didn’t see them. “Look at the ball you want to hit. Look at where you want it to go...aime some more so you’ll be able to hit it off of the wall and it’ll go into the pocket.” Dean moved her hips so she faced the ball some more and them moved her hands and arms. “And hit it.” It wasn’t her actions which jutted the cue out to hit the ball. Just as Dean said the green ball hit off of the wall and went into the pocket nicely. Dean took a step away and had a sip of beer, Ash couldn’t tell if she was happy he did that or not. 

   “Seems complicated. How do you know that it would hit off of the side and get into the hole?” she asked

   “Just from practice. The more you practice at this the more you’ll understand how hard you need to hit the ball or how you can angle it just right so it’ll go into the pocket.” Dean explained, leaning against the pool table, another swig of beer was taken. “So, you like the beer?” Ash copied his moves, grabbing the open beer bottle that sit on the side of the table and taking a drink of it. She’s gotten used to the kick of a taste and the bubbles along the top which were beginning to disappear and leave her with the golden coloured liquid in the inside of the brown bottle. 

   “Yes, I think I do like it. Although I think I like tea better.” Ash admitted with a shrug, she went to take another sip but noticed the beer was already empty...which was weird because she could have sworn she had just gotten it and hadn’t drunk too much out of it. “Could I have more?” she hiccuped at the end of her sentence. She had been beginning to feel better about coming to this bar. Whether it was just something in the drink of the general good time she was having with Dean. She felt more happy now, maybe a little tipsy even though only one beer was consumed.    
   “Sure, i’ll get you one. Stay here.” Dean went to the bar again, almost out of view but Ash could still spy the familiar dusty brown leather jacket as he talked to the girl with the arm tattoos. 

   “Hey, sweetheart. Here by yourself?” One of the men who played pool the table over came over to Ash, leaning up against the table as if it was attractive...which is wasn’t. He was the clone of the other men here. Fat, leather jacket, big beard, no hair on the top of his head since it probably migrated down to his chest and back. 

   “No, there are obviously other people in this building besides myself.” A couple other men came to stand beside their big friend and all of them laughed at Ash’s answer although she couldn’t tell why. 

   “You’re a funny one. Say, you’re interested in having a good time tonight, doll?” There was something in his tone when he said ‘doll’ that sounded like an insult, worse than the millions of swear words or gestures that humans have come up with. She felt the need to punch this guy every time she landed her eyes on his chubby, fat face and watched the crumbs in his beard fall out whenever he moved. 

   “My friend promised me that as well…”

   “Did he now?” the biker said, coming closer to Ash than she would have liked. “Well i’m sure I can show you a better time then he can.”

   “Hey!” Dean called over, forgetting the two beers on the bar Dean marched over to Ash and the group of bikers. “Back off, she’s with me.” The men let out a overly jolly laugh, the same insulting tone that Ash heard when he said ‘doll’,

   “Calm down, we’re only having fun. Besides, I don’t mind sharing her.” He smacked her ass and the group laughed again. At that moment Ash could contain herself anymore. The action sent Ash into ‘attack mode’. Despite her being outnumber by bigger men she was able to toss the man up and smack him down on the pool table like a rag doll, it a miracle that the table didn’t collapse from under him. 

   “That’s very inappropriate.” She yelled. Him and his friends looked anything but pleased. You could practically see the smoke coming out of their ears and their faces turn a bright red. 

   “Come on, Ash we should head back.” Dean said quickly. 

   “No, I want to stay and play more pool and have more beers.” 

   “Maybe tomorrow.” Dean put his hand on her lower back, quickly trying to get the two of them out of the bar before Ash decided to throw someone else on a pool table. The action didn’t just attract the group of men flirting with Ash before, now everyone had their eyes on the two of them as if they just insulted them in the worst way possible. Dean could see it play out in his mind, the group of biker men would no doubt band together to kick both of their asses. If they were ghosts or vampires maybe it wouldn’t have been as much of a problem. 

The two of them broke for the door, neither of them tried to avoid the massive puddles on the ground while they ran outside. The bikers motorcycles all sat by the front of the bar in a nice row meanwhile the impala was parked nearer to the back where there were less puddles thanks to the slight hill towards Eugene’s. 

   “Did you see them?!” Ash laughed so hard tears almost fell from her eyes. “They looked so mad! But it was funny!” she started up again, taking a breath and looking towards the rack of bikes with a smile on her face. Without thinking about it she knocked them over and then fell in a domino effect. “And THAT’S for slapping me in the butt!” she yelled. 

   “Hey!” the group of bikers gathered outside after hearing the crash. Ash and Dean booked it for the impala, the shouts of the bikers yelling  _ come back here you sons of a bitches  _ echoing in the distance as Dean started up the impala and booked it down the road, the two of them laughing all the way back to the bunker. 


	5. Haven's Missing An Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you really want spoilers??

The tipsy Ash and her taller, muscular companion came through the door of the bunker as quietly as they could but it ended up sounding as though a rabid elephant was escaping from a zoo. After one beer the grace was drunk, laughing at nothing and everything at the same time meanwhile Dean was trying to keep his cool. He tried to calm her down now and again but he had pretty much given up and joined in on the laughter. After all, it was sort of funny what happened. The bikers didn’t seem to give up tracking Ash and Dean down after the woman knocked over their bikes. As Dean started up the car he got a head start down the flooded road, surely they wouldn’t come trying to follow them and even if they did Dean was sure they would lose them soon enough. Although he was proven wrong. Just as he began to slow down the impala to a speed just above the speed limit, opposed to race car driving speed, he heard the faint noise of five motors angrily running behind them in the distance. 

   “That was…”

   “Sh…” Dean quieted her for a second, which Ash had done, and he listened. It took a second to hear the sounds of the bikes but the moment he did he began to speed up again. The lights flashed through the back window of the impala and right into the rearview mirror where Dean could see the soaking wet biker gang trying their best to get to them despite all of the rain. They were yelling and cursing but Dean couldn’t hear it. He doubted he wanted to anyways. 

   “Shoot!” Ash laughed again, looking behind the meet the eyes of the main biker guy, the one who slapped her on the ass. “Hurry up, Dean! They’re catching up!” Dean floored it, he slid across the road a bit but, thanks to his amazing driving skills, he had regained control and zoomed down the empty midnight road. The bikers, however, weren’t as lucky. As if it were some weird game the bikers slip and slided across the road as they tried to go too fast. They knocked off one by one until just the leader was left but he looked tired, angry and defeated as the long white beard of his was soaked through and his clothes matched. He gave up with an angry yell into the cold, windy night and stopped his bike before he could coming crashing down like the rest of his friends. Both Dean and Ash gave out a victory cry, high fiving (even though Ash was sort of confused to why they just slapped each other’s hand) and headed on home. 

The bunker was dark by now, both Castiel and Sam had gone to bed hours ago, Dean wasn’t even sure what time it really was. Guess time does really fly when you’re having fun running from angry bikers. His intention was to get in, get upstairs and go to bed without his brother or Castiel knowing although the footsteps coming down the stairs and the flick of lights turning on quickly put out that intention. 

   “Dean, what are you doing?” Castiel looked from Dean to the drunken Ash who was leaned up against the man for balance, a smile plastered on her face as she bit her lip. 

   “Hey, Cas.” she said in an unusually peppy tone. Castiel mimicked the same expression as a disappointed father after he caught his daughter coming home late and drunk on a school night. His arms were tucked together in a tight fold and his eyes narrowed down on Dean, mainly. As if he were the boyfriend who took his daughter out in the first place. For the first time in awhile Dean saw Castiel looking healthier than he had the past couple days without his grace...he looked madder too. Almost scary.

   “Relax, Cas. We just went out to a bar and had a little fun and she apparently got a little drunk. She only had one beer, no harm no foul.”

   “Yeah, only one beer.” Ash added as if that would help Dean’s argument. Ash seemed to forget about the whole conversation a second after saying that and staggered over to the wooden table and took a seat. She leaned forward to rest her chin on the table and began to turn on and off the little lamp. You could have mistaken her for a drunk after a night full of drinking the heavy stuff. On her breath you could only smell the slight scent of what could be beer, hardly the smell of an alcoholic or drunk. 

   “We don’t know that, Dean.” Castiel’s strict tone came out some more. The situation had stirred awake the sleeping moose as well. Sam walked downstairs, his mouth open as if to say ‘what’s going on here?’ but he answered his own question when he watched Ash flick on and off the light. He gave Dean the famous bitch face and stood beside Castiel, the strict and unimpressed mother of the parental duo. “Who knows what effect this could have on my grace. Angel’s aren’t suppose to have alcohol in the first place but a grace? She’s the supply of my powers, Dean. This could have some major defect of it. Besides, Ash was only...created today. You really think she could handle being drunk?”

   “She still is partially human. She’s fine. There’ll be no effect on your mojo.”

   “Do you know that for sure?” Maybe there was a ghost of a chance that the one beer could have some detrimental consequence to Castiel’s grace. However the chance was unlikely so Dean didn’t care to think about it any longer.

   “You know what? I feel like it was just yesterday I had tea...and it was really good tea. And the woman was...really old and she smelled weird. Not like you, Dean. She smelled different.” Ash said in a loopy daze. Her words were slurred and mixed with odd misplaced letters here and there which came out to sound nothing like she probably intended. Dean had to chuckle but as he did he felt Castiel’s and Sam’s enemy-like glare tighten harder. It could be worse. Ash could have been an angry drunk who ran off into the middle of the night. He was glad she was a happy drunk, he had dealt with both before.

She would feel it tomorrow, whether it was only one beer or not. Ash would be able to understand the beauties of getting drunk and the horrible intoxicating feeling of having a hangover. 

  “You cannot do this again, Dean.”

   “Fine, whatever. You two try entertaining her. It’s not as easy as you think.”

   “My eyes feel weird...is this normal?” Ash’s eyes began to flutter over and then droop closed as if they were covered in concrete and then flutter open again in a constant cycle. 

   “You’re getting tired.” Sam answered her

   “Yes, I believe I am so shush. Why must everyone be so loud? Is it really necessary?” Her eyes drooped shut one last time and in a span of second the girl was out much like the light she had been playing with. Sam and Cas glared at Dean one last time as if they were trying to get their point across, which they did. Sam headed off back to his room and Cas soon followed leaving Dean to deal with the passed out grace. He heaved a sigh and picked up the sleeping girl, bringing her back to her designated room, covered her in blankets and shut the door so sleep could sleep in peace.

 

___________________________

 

The vessel was not a good one, it could barely contain the powerful entity which was harboured inside for the moment being. Not even a day inside of this meat suit and it was already beginning to fall apart. The humans bright eyes were fading into a unresponsive gray, his blonde hair becoming matted and dull. From time to time a dark blood like substance would leak from the vessels openings, usually it’s ears or eyes. The only way he could keep this vessel together was with heavy duty duct tape and glue. Piecing it together like a kindergarten art project that was destined to be disposed of. He needed his grace.

His hands ran through the short, blondish hair and ran down his black suit to smooth out the wrinkles. The suit and tie were too constricting so he took it off and left it on a park bench leaving him in a white dress shirt, slightly untucked and covered in small drops of black ooze. He was a rather goofy young man by the name of Patrick Dentin, or so the ID found in the vessel’s pocket had told him. Judging from the picture on his phone Patrick had a family. A wife, who was so obviously seeing another man, and two kids, a boy and a girl with matching blonde hair and bright eyes. Patrick was a defense lawyer so there wouldn’t be much of a question why Patrick went missing one day. Although he didn’t care about Patrick’s family who were shocked and crying as their dear old daddy left the house for the last time. Patrick was going to serve as better use than just as another American family man. He was going to be the key to saving the world...even if it meant starting another apocalypse. 

He took down the street until he was well out of sight, following a slightly chubby man whose chunks jiggled as he walked down to the alley way which was blocked in by a massive brick wall decorated in many different posters about roommates wanted or drummers needed for their new garageband. An angel blade was kept casually in his hand. His steps increased, moving faster and faster to catch up with the chubby fellow until the fellow had stopped at the dead end and quickly turned around. 

   “Brother, you’re suppose to be…”

   “In the cage?” ‘Patrick’ answered. He looked over the obese man who smelled of stale milk and mold. His unbrushed red hair was pulled into a lazy bun which sat on the top of his triangled head. A stubby red beard began to grow along his face and down his neck. He wore filthy clothes which went unwashed for days...maybe even weeks. ‘Patrick’ assumed the vessel was a stoner, the only explanation to why someone would dress and smell like that on purpose. “I must say, Diniel, you could have chosen a better vessel than that.” he said with a scoff.

   “What do you want, Michael? How did you get out?”

   “Pretty easily, actually.” Michael played with the blade, spinning it in his hands as he slowly stepped towards his angel brotherern. “I had to endure years upon years of torturing and suffering with Lucifer, Diniel. A kind of pain I pray you’ll never have to experience. However in that time my vessel has become inadequate and destroyed. I can not longer take refuge in it and this vessel cannot hold me. I need a new, true vessel. This one will have to do for now.”

   “And what do you expect to be accomplished, Michael? The Winchester’s won’t give themselves to you, and even if they did what is your plan this time?” Diniel said in a dare, stepping back the same distance as Michael stepped forward.

   “We’ll see about the Winchesters, my plan is in process and it’s hardly worth my time explaining it to you. Although I need your help, Diniel. What I have planned is bigger than me, bigger than anyone. It will benefit the human race and your name will be remembered forever. I hardly think people really know the angel Diniel, do they? What are you? The angel who protects infants or something like that?”

   “What do you want.” Diniel ordered again in the most threatening and masculine tone he could manage in a vessel such as his own. 

   “I need your grace.” Diniel almost let out a laugh. A faint smile forming along his tiny pink lips. 

   “My grace? You must be joking.”

   “I’ve been told I don’t know how.”

   “I’m not giving you my grace. Your plans before had failed, Michael. Neither you nor Lucifer won. You have no business here anymore. You are irrelevant. Whatever plans you have this time they will fail again. I was never a part of the dispute between you, Lucifer and our father. Leave me be.” Michael let out a short sigh again, stepping another inch closer and, like they were doing a dance, Diniel had taken the same amount of step back. 

   “I’m sorry brother, but I cannot leave this be. I need grace in order to keep this vessel going until I get a permanent one.” Diniel quickly pulled out his blade like an hero would in an action move, the fat man armed for the fight however getting closer and closer to the brick wall. “Don’t fight me on this, Diniel. It will be so much easier if you just let me take it. I promise it won’t hurt. I promise that being human isn’t...well...who am I kidding? Maybe it won’t be too bad for you, though. You may be very accustomed to the life. And that way you will not have to endure the war I intend to plan.” Stubborn Diniel didn’t give in. He lunged forward with his angel blade in attempt to stab Michael in the chest however missed by a landslide and tripped down the alley while he was at it. Michael quickly went after him as Diniel picked his heavy self up quickly. Their blade collided with a sharp  _ ding  _ of metal on metal. The two brothers had held their blades together, watching and waiting for the first one to wimp out and pull away. Diniel was that wimp as he was unable to match Michael’s strength and quickly jumped back letting Michael topple forward a little. Diniel lunged forward again, he was able to slash Michael a little on the cheek but hardly enough to do anymore damage than a light hiss. Michael, more mad than ever, kicked down the other angel and quickly pushed him up against the brick wall.

   “I’m sorry it had to be this way.” Michael slit his brother’s throat. Blood began rushing out of the wound followed by a blinding white object which went right from Diniel’s dying corpse and into Michael’s hungry mouth.

With that, Michael turned away, leaving his brother to bleed out in the alley way.


	6. Psycho Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam go check out the leads on a new and unique case.

“Five dead bodies drained of blood all in the same way…” It was amazing how energetic someone could be at 9:00 in the morning. Sam already was dressed in his usual jeans and buttoned up green plaid shirt. His long hair was thoroughly brushed to perfection, shampooed and conditioned various times so when you walked by you could smell the beautiful scent of shampoo radiate off of him. The man was ready to go with his laptop open and eyes glued to the screen like they had been the last couple days. A hand ran down his cleanly shaved face as he turned to his brother. 

Dean looked the opposite. His eyes were droopy and face still held some stubble. Dean once again had on his robe, opened slightly so you could see the black shirt and sweats he had on underneath. His hair was messy, he hadn’t thought of putting a brush through his yet. A cup of coffee was held in his hands as he struggled to make it to the chair so he could just close his eyes for a second. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night for no particular reason aside from the fact that his mind was stuck on Ash and what to do with her and how they were going to help Cas, both without hurting anyone. 

   “What?” Dean asked, finally making it to his seat and falling back into it. He closed his eyes for the moments his brother was talking, still listening to what he was saying...barley.

   “The case.” Sam answered back as if it were obvious...obvious to someone who had been listening the past minutes Sam was talking about some case they didn’t have time for right now. It was far too early to talk about a case, especially on a Monday morning which should be reserved for sleeping in and going out to the diner downtown at noon for some pie.

Dean gave a blank expression, his brother huffed and began going over the case yet again. “I found a case not far from here. Maybe about thirty minutes. Five people have been killed in back alleys or behind buildings. All of them had their throats slit and left to bleed out. There were no traces found of the murderer from what I see. No fingerprints, no weapons...nothing. All of the bodies found were close to each other but none of the victims seemed to have anything in common. The most recent one was found this morning at five by some drunk wandering the streets. The victim's name was Frankie Jones. He was killed like the others and left to bleed out. Police chalked it up to be some gang violence. Frankie had a history of sexual assaults, caught with drugs…” Dean let go of any hope of not doing anything today like he had hoped for this morning. If they had to focus on any case it should be Castiel and how they can extract the grace from Ash to help their friend. 

  “Sammy, I don’t think there is a case here. It could be anything and nothing at the same time. It does sound like someone is definitely murdering people, probably something more than gang violence but I don’t think it’s anything supernatural. It’s probably like some psycho serial killer.”

   “None of the victims had anything in common, as I said before, all were different religions, genders, families...although they all had the same weapon, a knife. It wasn’t the murder weapon. All of the victims had defense wounds on them which looked like they were fighting against someone stronger than the average human. The blade matched the wounds on the victims necks so the police know that the murderer had the same type of knife that the victims had. This is the knife they found.” Sam turned the laptop around to face Dean. On the screen was an article about the murder. Dean disregarded any text and went straight for the picture of the weapon to the side of the article. It was a silver blade seemingly in perfect condition. It was unlike any blade or knife that a normal person would have seen before. It barely looked like it could be used for fighting, it was more like a decoration than anything. Dean knew it well. “All the victims were not only killed with an angel blade but they all had an angel blade of their own.” Sam’s excited expression grew quicker and quicker as he knew he had proven his point on this case. He sat up taller on his seat and you could almost see the small smile beginning to form. Whether or not that was from the fact that it was an interesting case or just because he was proving his brother wrong about the case being just a human serial killer was yet to be discovered.

   “Okay well…”

   “They’re calling the murderer the Fallen Angel.” Sam quickly interrupted, scrolling down to where there was a picture of the crime scene. There was a large blood stain against the brick wall and the garbage covered cement. More interestingly, though, was the large outline of what looked like wings burned into the ground expertly. From where the blood was it looked like they were perfectly situated to make the dead corpse look as though it had burned wings. They weren’t small wings either, they reached up to the brick wall. Whoever did this had too much time on their hands.

   “They were angels?” Dean asked, finally his body began to become more alert and awake. He straightened up, looking down at the picture intensely. 

   “Someone is killing angels, Dean. I thought because we have no leads on what to do with Ash and Cas that we could try figuring out this case in the meantime. The other cases I have been looking into don’t seem to check out and certainly aren’t as interesting as this one. Also they are a couple hours away from the bunker and I don’t think it would be a good idea to leave Ash and Cas alone in the bunker for too long. The town is only thirty minutes away and if it really is nothing or we have no leads then we’ll just come back. I’ll even pay for gas.” Sam seemed pretty confident, finally sitting back on the hair with his hands stretched out on the wooden chair. Dean had to admire his confidence from time to time. There was no harm in checking out the case and then he did enjoy the idea of free gas. With an over dramatic groan the eldest Winchester got up.

   “Alright fine, we’ll check it out.”

 

____________________________________

 

Seven AC/DC songs off of the Back in Black album later and the brothers rolled into the watery town of Burr Oaks. It, thankfully, hadn’t rained last night so the town was working on getting rid of the over flowing water which hit Burr Oaks the hardest. It seemed like this town was the eye of the storm, the streets were broken and soaking wet leaves were littered everywhere. Garbage piled the streets, not yet picked up by the garbage men of the county. Even some houses had some damage to them. As Dean and Sam rolled into town they spotted one house with an apple tree through their window, another whose shingles were completely ripped off. Today was the first cloudless day they’ve had in months. The sun shone brightly in the pure blue sky and aided a bit in the help of getting rid of the water which over flooded the sewer drains. 

Dean and Sam had headed downtown to the police station, avoiding the water as much as they could as they parked in the parking lot and quickly headed inside. The building itself was one of the nicer ones Dean had seen in town. It had no damage to it unless you counted the words ‘fuck the police’ spray painted messily on the side of the white building. They walked up to the woman at the front desk, her dark eyes studied hard on the computer in front of her. The two stood there for a couple seconds, waiting for the woman to ask them what they needed help with but she didn’t seem to notice them. Her fingers danced over the keyboard at superspeed and her eyes bounced back and forth on the screen. Dean looked to Sam and cleared his throat a bit. The woman finally looked up, took her hands away from the keyboard and smiled brightly at the two men dressed in plain black suits and red and blue ties.

   “Oh i’m sorry, how can I help you?” she asked

   “I’m agent Morrison and this is my partner agent McCartney, We’re from the FBI, we’ve been called in to talk to someone about the recent string of murders going on around the county? Specifically the recent case of Frankie Jones.” The brother flashed their fake FBI badges at the woman quickly who took little notice of them as her eyes went wide, processing information and then back to their normal size as she nodded quickly. 

   “Right, right. Um...did you by chance call in or...anything?” The flustered woman ran through piles of papers sitting on her desk. 

   “No, we were just told to come here.”

   “Oh? Okay I will speak to sheriff Kalnins now.” The woman got up, she was quite short and wore a straight pencil skirt, Dean’s eyes looked down her body as she headed out of the room, down the hall and into one of the offices. 

Sam stepped back to look around the oddly modern police station. There were large windows in the waiting area which flooded the room with natural light so only a couple of the LED lights hanging above them were on. Fake plants were scattered around the room along with magazines and books, it seemed like a doctor's office more than a police station.

It didn’t take long for the woman to come back. She could be heard by her loud steps from down the hall. “Follow me, please.” The woman led them down the hall to the same room she disappeared to. It was a smaller office and at the wooden desk sat an older man in a uniform. ‘Sheriff A. Kalnins’ it said on the nameplate on his desk.

   “Hello Sheriff we’re…”

   “Yes I know.” the man said quickly. He took forever to stand up from his chair, and it almost looked painful for him to do so. He was easily over the age where people usually retired. Wrinkles scattered his pale face, his mouth was put into a permanent frown. The man was short and had a large beer belly thanks to the years of drinking he probably did...even now Dean and Sam could see him having a couple beers every night when he got home. His tired eyes were the most distinguished detail about him. His green eyes were dull and lifeless, sad and depressed. He seemed just done with everything. Ultimately not the type of person who would want to put up with the crap the FBI does, especially if they’re impeding on an investigation in his small town.

   “I’m agent Andy Kalnins.” he shook the boys’ hands and then quickly returned to his seat. “Why don’t you uh...take a seat.” the Sheriff said, gesturing to the two chairs in front of his desk. The receptionist closed the door and still the boys could hear her heels clicking all the way down the hall until she returned to her desk. “Now boys, I had told them before that this case does not involve the FBI. I have all of my best men on the case just to make sure this gang is taken care of. We have zero tolerance for this kind of stuff on Burr Oaks.”

   “The case with Frankie Jones?” Sam asked

   “Yes. Frankie was a troubled man, ever since he was a kid he has been into some bad things. It’s not a secret that he has been apart of gangs and was into all sort of shit. He was hanging around with the wrong crowd, we’ve tried to get him out and we’ve tried to warn him before and he ignored us. Frankly, this doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone in town. It’s still a shame and I wish it could have been prevented however it’s not a case for the FBI. It’s a matter of a small gang and we are putting a stop to it, I said before that I got my best men on this case. Now I appreciate the concern but it’s really not needed.”

   “Have you heard of the other murders, similar to those of Frankie?” Dean asked. The Sheriff fell silent, a sigh released through the air as if he had given up trying to fight for a second. 

   “Yes, I have.” He tried his best to sound confident but his insecurity was obvious in his hesitant tone. 

   “Then you would understand why we’re here to investigate. Listen, Sheriff, we mean no insult. We’re just here to help. We’re all on the same team here, we all want to prevent these murders because it’s obvious it’s the work of a serial killer. All of the victims have been found the same way. With the knife and the markings on his corpse. If we all work together on this whoever is doing these horrible things will be behind bars sooner. We don’t want to fight you on this.” Dean sat back, watching the old man’s expressions change. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was a blue vein on the side of Sheriff Kalnins’ head which seemed to be trying to escape. It kept pulsating in and out, Dean almost jumped a couple times, thinking it was going to explode. 

   “Well…” he said with a triumphant huff, his hands colliding with the wooden desk in front of him. Not in an exactly angry tone or motion, more like he gave up on arguing. “Guess I can’t exactly argue with the FBI, now. Although I stand by my previous statement. This was just a case of Frankie being with the wrong people.”

   “Thank you for understanding. We’re going to need access to all of the information you have on the case. We would like to look at the body as well.” 

   “Yeah, you can have whatever information you want. I’ll make sure to tell my secretary to give you two whatever you need. The body is in the morgue, you’ll have to talk to Doctor Alvin about what he found.” The Sheriff took a folder out of his desk. He tossed it on the section of desk in front of the two of them. Sam took the liberty to open it up and looked over the contents. 

  “I’ll be honest with you, we don’t  have a lot of information about this case. The knives...we’ve had some people look at them but there doesn’t seem to be anything special about them and we don’t know of any gang who have those sort of weapons. So that’s still a work in process. Then there are those markings around the body. They look like...wings burned into the ground. We suspect that it’s a calling card of sorts, hence the name the Fallen Angel.”

   “Would you mind if we take this? Look over it for today?”

   “Knock yourselves out.” 

   “Thanks, was there any footage you found perhaps?” Sam questioned. 

   “We don’t have much crime around town so we don’t have many security cameras around town. Mainly on city hall and the police station as well as the bank. Since the murder was in some back alley we had no cameras near there. I don’t know if the other murders have any footage of the killer.”

   “Could you get into looking into that for us?” The Sheriff didn’t seem to enjoy getting pushed around but people usually did what people of authority told them to without much question so Sheriff Kalnins didn’t bother arguing at all to the two boys but instead nodded. The words  _ This’ll be over before you know it.  _ Probably running through his head along with other not so clean thoughts. 

  “Well I think we’ve got all we came here for.” Dean could hear the low mumble under the older man’s breath, something along the lines of taking the whole damn case but Dean couldn’t really make it out too well. He probably didn’t want to hear what he said anyways so he let it go. Sam followed Dean out of the office, the Sheriff and the fake FBI agents said their goodbyes and parted their ways back into the car. 

The whole ride was silent as Sam was taking in all the new information that was withheld from the public eyes until the case was finished and they had answers for people. There was no huge illuminati like secrets in this confidential file, though. All that it said was literally nothing. They had no idea what was so special about the knife, a photo was attached to the file of the angel blade Frankie was carrying. There was the symbol on the ground as well, the calling card of two large wings burnt into the cement. The police didn’t know how someone was able to discreetly make such an accurate and elaborate calling card, a question the boys had the answers to. This was only the file on Frankie though. He worked at a local gas station and dropped out of college the first year. He’s had drug charges, he was caught with an unlicensed weapon and was arrested three times for impaired driving and now revoked of his driver's license. In any other case Sam could understand the easy verdict on gang violence being the way this funny looking man lived. 

   “So?” Dean pressed “What do you think?” He looking over to the file quickly, looking to the photo of Frankie Jones taken at his recent arrest. He had frizzy, long red hair which looked to go unbrushed for months. It was matted and coated with something Dean would rather not know what it was. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was covered in acne worse than the most nerdy of teenagers. His thin lips were pressed together in an unimpressed smile as he was forced to take his picture for the camera before being thrown into the slammer. Dean quickly looked back to the road before he crashed his Baby. 

   “Nothing much.” Sam said in a defeated tone. “Police are clueless, the gang violence conclusion was just an easy way to end the case before the town got bad press. Although it’s an angel without a doubt. I have some statements from Frankie’s friends and family saying that they haven’t seen him in a couples days, some said even a week. Of course they added it wasn’t too unusual. He was acting stranger than usual, but again with that guy strange was probably normal so none of them really worried too much. Definitely an angel who took over this guy as a vessel. Whoever has been killing these angels knows what they're doing, they would need to be strong in smart in order to defeat one of them let alone five.”

The impala turned a corner and up on the hill where the dirt road ended was the bunker, their home. Dean and Sam parked the impala in the garage and headed inside without much energy in the two of them. 

   “Cas!” Dean yelled when he walked through the door. His masculine voice echoed off of the thick walls. There was no reply. He marched into the library next, quickly loosening the stupid tie he always hated wearing as well as untucking his buttoned up dress shirt from his black slacks. “Cas!” he yelled again and this time the angel showed up. He staggered into the room looking just as he did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. He was anything but healthy, his complexion green and eyes hung with dark bags. His trench coat was still off, tie still crooked and dress shirt still buttoned wrong. “Cas you uh...feeling okay?” No, Dean was wrong. He didn’t look like he had yesterday and the day before that and the day before that, he looked worse. Much worse. Castiel looked like he couldn’t even stand for too long, both Winchesters were on alert, ready if anything happened. 

   “I’m fine.” he dismissed “Ash has...been in Sam’s room all day watching something on TV. I...guess it’s just i’ve been away from my grace for too long and it just makes me weaker but i’m okay.”

   “Cas you should rest and…”

   “I’m fine, Dean.” Castiel’s strict tone and hard lie told the brothers to shut up. How long were they just going to ignore the obvious deterioration that was going on here? When were they going to do something about this? Castiel couldn’t live like this forever, he was slowly dying. Sam knew that, Dean knew that and so did Cas but none of the boys cared to talk about that. They rather ignore the obvious as if it would just go away if you didn’t pay attention to it. With a short silence as their break Dean brought up the other topic at hand, their new case.

   “Sam found a case we thought would be interesting. We went today down to Burr Oaks to check it out. A man by the name of Frankie Jones was found dead, slit in his neck and left to bleed in a back alley. There have been five other cases like Frankie’s. What made this case interesting, though, was how the body was found and what it was found with. Sam tossed the file onto the long wooden table, Castiel held onto the chair for dear life meanwhile looking over the documents inside. 

   “What do you think?” Sam asked

   “That’s Diniel.” Castiel’s already tired eyes threatened sadness as well, looking onto his fallen brethren.  

   “Is he another angel?” 

   “Yes.”

   “What could have killed him? Or who?”

   “No I...I don’t know. I’ve been out of the angel loop for awhile now, need I remind you my grace is upstairs watching TV. I don’t know what’s going on.” He placed a hand on his sweaty forehead and tried to keep himself balanced. He felt so weak, unusually weak and sick to his stomach but he just couldn’t throw up anymore. He couldn’t sleep anymore because the pain was too intense, he was left curled in a ball trying to forget about the pain, ignore the pain and it would go away. It never worked. The nausea took over her body and he couldn’t help himself anymore. The world began to shake, the chair in front of him suddenly doubled and those two wooden chairs moved back and forth steadily. His legs gave out and the angel came crashing down onto the wooden floor, his hands catching his fall only slightly. He wasn’t able to rest there, yet. He began coughing out thin chunks of blood onto the floor, Dean didn’t choose to stay any longer and watch his friend suffer. He did the only thing he could do at this time and took off in a run up the metal stairs and right into Ash’s room. 

The lights were all turned off and the only light came from the television screen. The blonde girl sat covered in millions of blankets, she made no motion to let Dean know that she knew he was in the room. 

   “What are you…” Dean was about to say but he got quickly interrupted by a should SHUSH coming from Ash. “What are you watching?” Dean asked, caught off guard. 

   “It’s called The Walking Dead, Sam said I could watch Netflix while you two were out. Dean, do we actually have walkers in real life? I haven’t seen any but then again I do rise from my grave yesterday, what if I am a walker? What if i’m turning?” Ash seemed completely serious as she turned to look at Dean with wide, fearful eyes. 

   “What? No! Damn it Ash, there is something wrong with Cas.” 

   “What’s wrong?”

   “Well I don’t know!” Dean threw his hands into the air in frustration “He’s just...sick and he’s coughing up blood.” Ash needed no more convincing, she tossed the blankets off onto the floor and didn’t even bother pausing her show. She raced downstairs, beating Dean there. Ash took one look at her angel and wasted no time. Sam stepped back, ready to let Ash do whatever she could do to help him however both Winchesters were surprised when she ended up pulling him in and kissing him. It wasn’t just a peck like you would give your aunt, it was a full on kiss lasting for a very long ten second. When Ash pulled away Castiel was slightly better. He was still sick, for sure. He was a little tipsy when he tried to stand up but at least his skin was back to a normalish colour and he had the strength to get up.

   “Uh...what was that?” Sam asked, both brothers were left with her jaws hung open. 

   “I helped him, was that not what you wanted?”

   “You kissed him.” Dean confirmed

   “Yes, so?”

   “Well when you kiss someone it sort of indicates you uh...like them in a...way that’s more than friends. What did you kiss do to him?” Ash cocked her eyebrow and tilted her head to the side as if she were looking at a pair of conjoined gophers. 

   “I am not human.” She said for the thousandth time, Ash thought that if they didn’t understand that by now, they never would. “The kiss is nothing significant or special to me, it’s just kissing. Really, the act is meaningless, it’s humans which give kissing someone that romantic meaning. Why? Did the kiss bother you two?” Both Winchesters rolled their eyes this time. 

   “Whatever, he’ll be alright now, right?” Dean asked

   “Yes...well for a little bit. What was did was a temporary fix, like putting duct tape on something. It will help hold him together but it’s not a permanent fix. It’ll work until we find out what we can do to save him. Although it would be best if I am always near him from now on. If I leave his side then he’ll just get back to that sick stage again sooner.”

   “Great.” Dean scoffed “Another damn thing to worry about.”


	7. Bad Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas, Ash, Dean and Sam head to check out the body to confirm it being Diniel and hopefully to get some new, insightful information.

Everyone was quiet for the rest of the night, without any news no one had much to talk about. Castiel and Ash hibernated in Cas’ room watching Netflix playing seasons of shows on repeat. Dean and Sam were at a loss, everything seemed like a puzzle with missing pieces, too many missing pieces to see the full image. This is what they knew: Ash was Castiel’s grace and, for whatever magical reason, she turned into a human. However no one really knew why or how this was possible. They didn’t even know if this was her own body that was...created for her (for lack of a better word) or if it was only a vessel. In that case, who was the poor soul trapped inside, unable to do anything at the will of an angel's grace? That was one missing piece. Castiel was weakening. Each day the strong angel got weaker and deteriorated, Dean and Sam dreaded the day that Cas wouldn’t even be able to get up out of bed. Another missing piece. On the bright side it seemed like the more Castiel and Ash stayed together the better he was...mind you that wasn’t saying much. Dean and Sam thought that ‘better’ was that Castiel was not sprawling on the ground in a fit of bloody coughs. How they got Cas’ grace back in him without killing Ash was another mystery. The rest of the night was spent sitting in their rooms looking at screens in a blank, lifeless stare until the boys decided they were tired of staring into space and went to sleep.

The next day Ash, Cas, Dean and Sam awoke at a late hour in the morning, or more like the afternoon, and the group piled their way into the impala. The noise of the engine was heard taking off down the road quickly. Already the water was beginning to disappear along the sides of the road but it was still enough to leave a puddle which sprayed up along anyone or anything that stood along the impala’s path. 

   “You know you’re only here to keep Cas healthy, right Ash?” Dean asked, looking into the rearview mirror to see the two in the back. Castiel leaned up against the door of the impala, aimlessly looking out the window at the passing trees meanwhile Ash sat up straight, healthily, ready for whatever came at her.

   “I’m aware.” She said to him absentmindedly, like flicking off a fly that was buzzing around her head. It was a absentminded gesture making Dean thought she didn’t actually hear him or care to really take in what she said. “You can’t say anything in there, okay Ash?” he asked again after a few quiet moments. “You’re going to be a fake FBI agent in a real police station and they don’t take kindly to people pretending to be feds. Castiel knows what to do, he just needs to check the body and confirm it’s really Diniel and then we’ll get back to the bunker…”

   “I know, Dean.” Ash said stubbornly, turning to look at his green eyes which locked with hers in the rearview mirror until Dean looked away to focus on the road. “My lips will be sealed. I don’t say or do something to anyone and then everything will be just peachy.” Sarcasm dripped from her tone causing Dean to roll his eyes but he didn’t question her. “Really, I am hardly a child. You could treat me with a little more respect than since, after all, I am the only thing keeping your friend alive.” Sass dripped from her voice. “Besides, what’s so significant about this angel dying? If you haven’t been in the loop recently, angels aren’t exactly friends with one another. Now there are more angel murders than ever. Our kind is a confusing, odd bunch. They believe they are less confusing than humans however I think they are as confusing. They are more alike my father’s creatures than they care to admit.”

   “It’s more than just one angel dying. It’s five, they were all killed in the same way and it’s more than just two angels having a fight. They were all slit across the neck as well. The same thing killing all these angels isn’t going to stop anytime soon. Besides, we have no leads on your case, Ash, so we thought that dealing with this in the meantime will occupy us a bit.” Sam explained, seeing as Dean was now keeping his mouth shut for the rest of the drive.

   “Were you not aware I could have brought you there? I’ve been learning more about myself as grace and I do harbour many powers that Castiel had, not to the full extent as he could do, of course, since I am only grace who are not suppose to be using these powers plus I am human however i’m sure I could bring us all to the police station.”

   “We’re driving. We’re not taking any weird angel crap to get somewhere. It does bad stuff to a person.” Dean lifted his silent treatment for a second, cursing to himself when he did. “Besides, you need all the power to have for Cas. We don’t want you using it on beaming us in and out of police stations probably filled with people who would see a group of ‘FBI’ agents magically popping into the room. That wouldn’t be very suspicious now would it.”

   “Well...on the contrary it does sound very suspicious.” She replied, not understanding the light sarcasm the eldest Winchester through in there. The topic was finished and the impala and the hunters inside escaped into the modern police station.

 

_________________________________

 

It took little time for them to get inside the morgue and check out the body. The bloated corpse sat lifelessly on the table. His skin was the colour of a light cement, making his hair stick out like a sore thumb, especially his bushy red eyebrows and grotesque matching beard which hid the crumbs of whatever he ate last. Castiel furrowed his brow at the human corpse, taking his moments to check it out meanwhile Sam asked the doctor to leave while they did their FBI magic. 

    “I can’t...tell…” he said, ashamed and defeated. 

    “He is.” Ash answered for him. “This was Diniel but...well he isn’t really dead. His grace is missing but not destroyed or anything of the sorts.” She knew Dean didn’t want her talking although no one was in the room with them and Castiel had no information he could offer the group. For once Ash found herself benefiting the group instead of creating a bigger weight. “There was no videos of the murderer?”

   “None that the police could find.” Sam answered. Ash took her time circling the body, touching the wound on his neck where no more blood stained, only a open, empty hole cutting inches deep. He would have bled out fast, the pain horrible for the seconds that he was alive after being cut. Just enough time to get a good last look of his killer before darkness surrounded him and he was forced into a deep, eternal sleep. Ash closed her eyes and shook her head. Whoever who wanted to murder Diniel had a purpose behind it, obviously enough, however Ash couldn’t tell of a reason behind this purpose. The door opened into the morgue, Ash’s eyes were still closed and she could hear the background of male voices, Sam and Dean’s as well as the stranger who walked inside. However they were tuned out as other voices, shouting and screaming at each other, had echoed through her mind. She focused hard, her head began to pound as if her brain were trying to break out of her skull but she kept pressing on. So many of them talking. All of them confused and scared but no one had a clue.

   “What is she doing?” she could hear the confused voice of a stranger say to her.

   “Oh uh...she’s just...very religious. We were just about to head out now.” Dean said to the man she couldn’t see. Her eyes still closed and mind still focused on the chatter amongst the others. She couldn’t chime in herself, nor did she want to, however she would love to tell everyone to shut the hell up and talk one at a time. There were more than just five angels who were killed, that’s one thing that she was able to get out of her brothers and sisters. There had to be ten...twenty? Maybe even thirty, numbers were thrown around everywhere but the important point was that this wasn’t just some run of the mill murder spree. Each of them had their grace yanked away from them as the bodies of angels were left in back alleys or behind bars. “Come on Ash, we have to g…” 

   “Stop Dean.” she ordered and, as though a sudden powerful wind came gusting through the room, Dean was yanked away from Ash when he came close to pull her outside. Ash opened her eyes quickly, they lit up white, matching the rest of her eyes only for a second but they returned to their light blue state when she looked to Dean who was getting up from being pushed against the wall. Sam and Castiel had taken a step back, looking from Ash to the Sheriff who seemed like he just saw a ghost. “I…I’m sorry.” she uttered quickly and left the room in a rush. 

She ran past the small hallway of offices and past the busy receptionist who was on the phone meanwhile flustering through papers, too busy to notice Ash make a B line for the exit and quickly head around back where she was alone. Behind the building was an large wall with enough room between it and the building for someone to stay. It was a little dead end where she doubted many people came. It was even clean of garbage and graffiti. The best thing was the roof of the building hid the blinding sun from view and it was out of sight from the road where she could hear cars constantly passing. She closed her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose. There was a reason Dean didn’t want her to say or do anything. He knew beforehand she was going to screw up. She would say or do something making the Sheriff question the reality of their badges. She was foolish to think otherwise. However, more importantly, it was the newfound information via angel radio she picked up. It came at the cost of a blinding headache but probably worth it. 

Ash’s thoughts were disturbed when she felt someone grab her with incredible force, thankfully she was able to quickly pull away. It was a man who had pulled her, tall and squirrel like with large yellow buck teeth and wide, circular eyes which screamed ‘crazy’ the moment you looked into them. His breath and clothes stunk of mold and dust bunnies, his brown hair knotted and tangled in a perfectly unbreakable tangle. Long whiskered decorated his skin in a few choice places and a dark peach fuzz sat on his lip. He was an ugly and disgusting man. The mere sight of him sent chills up her spine and had her feeling uneasy.

   “What are you doing?” she breathed quickly from the scare. Was it a normal thing for humans to do? Had she done something wrong? The man seemed like a cowardice hermit, maybe she was intruding on his home? Yet the man didn’t reply, he took great stride towards her with the same crazy glare forever glued on his face. “No, you’re not human.” she said aloud. His ugly smile growing bigger so you could see the black holes and chipped dents in his teeth. “Who are you?” She was jumped again. The man reached for her quickly and struggled to keep her in his grasp. He was strong, strong enough to outpower a grace of an angel. It was like a dance.She was able to push him off and she jumped back quickly before he was able to charge again. The man took a stride towards her, she took a stride back until there was only a couple more strides until she was met with the brick wall. He charged forwards, coming at her with a wide open mouth and the face of a warrior. Before he was able to land a finger on the girl the blonde grabbed his arm and flipped him over. There was a crack in the air as she pulled the arm right out of the socket. The man let out a screech and sliced her along the thigh. Still she held in tight by the neck in her grasp.

   “Hold it.” the masculine voice said after the cock of a gun. Ash groaned lightly, once again she would need saving by a Winchester. Ash held onto her wound which let loose a light flow of crimson liquid and stained her hand and her black dress pants. She didn’t like being the damsel in distress however seeing Dean standing there protectively with a face saying ‘I’m going to fucking murder you’ and the worry he showed when he looked over to see Ash and her minor injury made her feel a little happy he was here. 

   “I don’t need help, Dean.” Ash said to him when she snapped out of her daze. The mysterious man, however, was able to slip out of her killer grasp the moment Dean looked to the blonde. He tried sprinting away but Dean was one step ahead of him, he caught up to him in a matter of seconds, seeing as the kid only had one way to go and that was towards Dean since the other way lead to the dead end. Dean slammed him against the brick wall and pressed a blade dangerously close to his neck, an angel blade.

   “Who are you?” Dean’s low and threatening voice sent chills up Ash’s arms. 

   “Fuck you.” the kid spat. The Winchester, taking no offense, began slowly carving the pale skin with the blade. As if it were a pad of paper and the pen linked red ooze. The man hissed in pain. No one else heard, no one aside from themselves and Castiel and Sam who just now ran into the alleyway, ready for a fight. 

   “What to try that again?” Dean repeated.

   “Nuriel!” He said in a cowering response, losing any bit of power he tried to portray before. “I name is Nuriel and I am an angel.”

   “What do you want with her?” Dean demanded next. Ash studied the way he took control of the situation. He was the one in power now, threatening and menacing and Nuriel had no chance in getting away. He was a mouse meanwhile Dean was the hawk which preyed on him from above. Now they were all waiting for the moment the hawk would come down and destroy the little creature.

   “Isn’t it obvious?” He tried to sound like he wasn’t terrified, but the tremors in his already shaky voice began. You could see it in his bloodshot eyes, they didn’t look at Dean, they looked down at the knife just gracing his neck. “She is a humanized grace and you...expect no one to...want to get to her?” Nuriel took deep, scattered breaths as he tried to back his head up more into the wall but there was no farther he could go to avoid the blade. 

    “What do you want her for?”

    “I...want the power! She has great power! She has to! She created herself a human, she’s walking and talking and breathing like the rest of your mundane kind. She’s different. She’s special.” 

   “He’s lying.” Ash said quickly “I don’t believe he wants my power, it’s someone else he is retrieving it for.”

   “Who are you working for?” the boy only laughed. 

   “As if I would tell you. You should rather kill me. It would be a much peaceful way to die. If I were to tell you who I am working for they would torture me in ways that you only could imagine. Dean didn’t lose his cool just yet, he continued to carve random lines into his skin, down to his collarbone which slowly began to get soaked in blood so dark it could have passed for black. Nuriel let out screams, but he didn’t say anything. 

   “Let’s try that again. Who are you working for?” Dean asked

   “Let’s just call him an old friend, Dean Winchester. You better watch your back. He is salvation, something you two will never understand.” Nuriel look to Dean and Sam and then directly to Ash. “You have more to worry about than what he has in mind. However I can help you. I will promise that he, or any other of the angels on his side, will not bother you three. If you just let me have her. What do you really care, anyways? She is a grace, i’m sure Castiel can get used to his human life as he once had. He has failed as an angel, the human life suits him. I promise the grace will feel no pain. It will be quick and I will be on my way. It’s for the greater good…” Now Dean was ready to stab him, his raised his hand to slit his throat leaving a clean cut as the angel died out however before Dean was able to Nuriel jerked his head up into the air. A thick cloud of smoke poured out of the mouth of the vessel and disappeared into the air. Dean was left holding a limp body as the man began to awake. His eyelids have closed and, as usually, smelling of nothing but weed, cigarette smoke and alcohol. 

   “Damn it!” Dean yelled, tossed the kid onto the ground and pacing away, his hand madly running through his short hair. 

   “What happened? Did I win?” The kid asked in a loopy daze. 

Ash watched Dean, Sam and Cas all slowly leave the back of the police building wearing the same, defeated expressions. Without much else of a choice the girl slowly limped back to the impala. 


	8. Heat of the Moment

“Is this really necessary, Dean?” beads of sweat dripped down the blonde's forehead and through her hair which was pulled back into a tight pony tail. She stepped back after trying to take a jab at the man in front of her who, after about an hour of hard core training, still seemed as fit and ready as ever. Dean was a little exhausted looking with sweat through his hairline. However he was still up and ready to kick ass. He looked like he could still take more punches, run some more laps or do a couple more push ups. Then there was Ash. The grace panted in large gulping huffs as if was taking her first breath in years. Her limbs felt numb and the girl was close to falling over and taking a long needed nap on the ground on the rather dirty makeshift training room in the basement of the bunker. 

   “Yes, it’s necessary. Ash, you got beaten up by an angel in the alley yesterday.”

   “I wouldn’t use the term ‘beaten up, per say.” 

   “I would, if I wasn’t there you would have gotten your ass kicked.” Dean teased, sending her a playful wink, taunting her, ready for her to come ram at him again like she had been the past hour. However if she came raming at him Ash knew Dean would be able to block her and toss her on the hard ground and she would be back to square one. There was no beating a hunter without her powers. Even her superhuman strength she was suppose to have came and went as it pleased. At times she felt more like a human than other times, and while she stood in the basement with her face turned cherry red and sweat pouring from every pore she had she felt like a true, diminutive, weak mundane. “Come on, we’ve only been at this for an hour. When you’re in the middle of a fight everything goes by fast and you get tired easily especially when you’re fighting against something supernatural.” Dean bounced back and forth on the pads of his feet as if waiting for Ash to get up and punch him, beginning to fight back and forth like they have been for a while now. Dean taught her a couple or rules about fighting. She learned how to properly punch and best ways to protect yourself. Tomorrow’s lesson, said Dean at the beginning of their one on one duel, would be learning a bit more about protecting yourself from the supernatural, protecting yourself not like an angel would protect themselves but how a real hunter does it. 

   “But i’m a grace, Dean. I can just use the powers I have.” Ash tried to reason but there was no reasoning with a man on a mission. 

   “You can’t keep using your powers for everything, it’s been weakening you too, hasn’t it?” Ash didn’t reply “You need to keep your powers for Cas. In the meantime you learn to fight like a hunter.”

   “Hunters are too glorified, I can use my powers if I want to, Dean. Lately i’ve just been...not wanting to use my powers too much. If I wanted to I could kick  _ your  _ ass right now.” Ash slowly walked to the side of the room where two water bottles sat, droplets of precious water dripped from the plastic sides. There could be no better pleasure than feeling the cold water running down her throat right now. It was like a mirage, the thought of drinking some water to sooth her dry, scratchy throat was heaven.  It was so close but so far and at points she thought she would never reach it. 

   “You could kick me ass?” Dean barked out a laugh “I would love to see you try.” Dean quickly grabbed the water bottle before Ash could reach it. Backing up, Dean held it up in the air so the whole world could see. Ash threw her hands to the side and cocked her head sideways with an unimpressed look printed on. 

   “Could I have some?” She asked with sass, taking a couple strides forward. Dean didn’t let her get close, he took the same amount of strides back while grinning like the Grinch. 

   “What? This?” he gestured towards the bottle and then held it for her to take. Ash was skeptical but she needed water, her throat felt like it was on fire. Everytime she talked it scratched and burned, the only relief was water. Ash reached for the bottle but Dean jerked it away before she could feel the coldness on her hand. 

   “Come on, Dean. This isn’t funny. I really do need water.” She tried to take another couple steps forwards but he backed away again. “Dean seriously…”

   “You said you could kick my ass, now prove it. You want the water bottle? Well come and get it.” The more he talked and the more he held up the water bottle as a trophy Ash got more and more pissed off. She could feel the anger running up from her feet and into her chest having her overcome with a madness unlike others she’s felt in her short time on earth. It spread into her arms and down her veins into her hands which clench into tight fists threatening to punch him. The anger then went up her body and into her brain. That’s when she had enough of the cocky smile and attitude. 

She charged at the dirty blonde in a speed which could only match the fastest of olympic athletes. Ash was fast enough to get to Dean without him dodging or jumping back. Dean was good with his hands plus he was strong so trying to punch it wouldn’t work out in her favour, she had to find his weak spot. Ash tried to kick the back of his knees, hoping to see him collapse. That plan hadn’t worked out too well. While still holding the bottle Dean fended her off by quickly dodged at the kick, he pushed her back so Ash stumbled away from him but she quickly returned to that close proximity to try to punch him. Each punch it was like Dean knew where she was going to hit, he could dodge and block each punch literally one handed. However with enough effort she was able to get a couple in. One in his stomach, which didn’t seem to be too harmful to the hunter, and one across the jaw. Dean was taken aback by that punch, both of them could have sworn they heard a crack. Ash took the distraction. Grabbing his hands Ash pushed him up against the back wall with them pinned above his head. In order to keep him from breaking off she pushed all of her weight against his body. The only parts of them not touch were their faces, merely inches apart. Ash proudly smiled, her eyes narrowed into Dean’s cocky green ones.

    “Can I have my water bottle now?” It sounded like a demand more than anything, the girl with the upper hand looked at him as if daring Dean to say anything else. She couldn’t help but smile, Dean seemed to have given up fighting her impressive strength. The moment Ash felt his body release from the tension she loosened her grip on his wrists. Dean pushed her off quickly, with Ash off guard he was able to take her and push her against the same wall as she did to him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, his body pushed against her and their faces once again inches apart. Now it was Dean’s turn to gloat, smirking down at the blonde who stared back at him with devils eyes. 

   “Next rule to fighting, never let your guard down.” Ash groaned and rolled her eyes. She jerked her knee up so it hit his crotch with impressive force. Dean quickly dropped her hands and backed away with a series of swears and moans.The water bottle came falling out of his hands and slowly rolled towards the front door. Ash walked away from the wall and grabbed the bottle before Dean had a chance to fight back. She took the chance to take a victory gulp of water, practically drinking all the liquid in the bottle.

  “Right, well I will assume we’re done for the day. I’ll go get changed.” She sent him a teasing smile and then left the room, leaving there a moaning hunter.

 


	9. Chapter Eight

“We’ll keep working on your fighting.” Dean announced as he walked into the room. The two were dressed in fresh clothes. Dean wore a regular green flannel with jeans, underneath was a black shirt. Ash had been borrowing the Winchesters clothes until the group living in a bunker took a family road trip into town. Not only to look over the body of Diniel but to go get Ash some clothes of her own so she doesn’t have to live in oversized flannels and Marlene’s old track pants. Now in clothes of her own Ash wore plain blue jeans and a regular black shirt with Metallica’s logo on the front along with the Master of Puppets cover. Dean had insisted on Ash getting it, if they had to go clothes shopping might as well get some decent clothes that would begin to teach Ash the beauties of rock, right? It fit her well, tight fitting to her curved body but not too much that it looked cheap. He admired it on her.

Ash sat at the long wooden table in the library, a laptop sat in front of her. She had been able to turn it on but nothing more. While Dean was teaching Ash how to fight and how to protect herself against the supernatural the old hunter way, Sam was teaching her how to use technology. She could officially dial Dean’s number on Sam’s phone as well play Angry Birds. Sam showed her the beauties of a laptop earlier today. Dean overheard them talking about logging into an account on the computer which took about thirty minutes to explain and he still didn’t think Ash fully understood. After that, Sam had decided to take a break which was when Dean came in with John’s journal in hand and a box of weird looking relics and other items. 

She looked lost, staring at the default lock screen on the laptop of a vibrant green rainforest in some tropical part of the world and slowly changed into a picture of a perfect beach, the ideal honeymoon destination. There were not marks in the white sand, light waves formed in the horizon and began to move very slowly across the screen. Ash looked up the moment Dean approached the long table. “We’ll focus more about protecting yourself now.”

   “I already know how to protect myself, Dean.” Ash rolled her blue eyes.

   “Like a hunter, as far as i’m concerned we’re going to treat you like a hunter in training. No special treatment because you’re a grace. We’ll be going over the basics today, stuff you probably already know but it’s good to go over anyways.” Dean sat beside her, placing the box and the journal on the table. Ash looked quickly at the beaten up brown journal. Pieces of paper and photographs were sticking out of the journal every which way with, the only thing holding it together was a loose strap tied around it. 

   “What’s that?” Ash asked, curious.

   “My dad’s journal. When he started hunting he began writing down everything he came across. It’s been a big help to Sammy and I especially when dad went missing and we had to hunt on our own.”

   “Your dad went missing?” Ash questioned “And i’m guessing you haven’t found him.”

   “We did but he...ended up dying a little after.” Ash only nodded. “Nonetheless he wrote the journal and we basically have studied off of it throughout our lives. Now we don’t use it as much but in your case it would be a great way of learning about the hunting life.”

   “How did he die?” It had been years since he thought about John’s death, after all it has been years since he died. You never get over death, whoever says you do hasn’t really experienced it before. You just learn to deal with the death and there is no one more experienced to talk about this topic than Dean and his brother. Everyone they loved ended up dying, Jess, Bobby,Charlie, Kevin...and the list just goes on and on. Still, the brothers are staying strong, slowly trying to get through the day.

   “I was dying, he sold his soul to save me.” 

   “He sounds like a satisfactory father.” 

   “He was...not there a lot during our childhood. We were raised like soldiers, programmed to hunt and nothing else. I complied but Sam gave him a harder time. He did go to college actually, but I brought him back when dad went missing.” 

    “I know some things about your lives. I...do know your mother died when you were younger due to Azazel. I have shared some memories with my angel however I seemed to have forgotten about your father. I believe the accurate human response in this situation is to say sorry. I’m not very sure why since I didn’t kill your father.” Dean half smiled at her, trying to force the sad thoughts about his father back into their designated place in his mind, locked in a safe and covered in chains that were impossible to unlock.

   “Anyways,you’ll be studying through this in the meantime.” Ash reached forward and grabbed the brown journal. Carefully, as if the pages would rip off if she were too rough. On the first page was his name, John Winchester, printed messily in black ink. A photograph fell out of a man with tanned skin and black hair along with a slight black stubble. He smiled brightly into the camera while his arms were hooked around the waste of a blonde woman dressed in a gown with a large belly. Pregnant probably about seven or eight month. In between the two of them was a little boy, four or five years old with dirty blond hair. He wasn’t looking at the camera. The little boy with the bright green eyes was in a daze, looking off to something that was much more interesting than a man with a camera. 

    “Is that you? And your family?” Ash held up the polaroid to get a better look at it. The family was outside probably in a backyard since there was a small swing set and a medium sized full tree perfect for climbing on. 

   “Yeah” Dean nodded “Anyways…”

   “And your mother is pregnant with your brother at the time?”

   “Yeah” Dean said lowly, flipping the page for her. The first article was on Mary Winchester’s murder. Under a paper clip at the top of the paper was a bunch of articles. All of them were the same rambles about how there was a fire in a nursery, fire department hasn’t been able to dictate the cause of the fire. There was one death, a mother. The two younger boys, ages five years and six months. The father as well got out alright. On the paper was a bunch of ramblings about yellow eyes. Questions about what got Mary, why was she the target? Ash noticed the penmanship getting more messy as the ramblings went on, the marks in the page from the pen began to get deeper and more intense. These were the ramblings of a mad man, lost in grief over his beautiful wife, confused and in need to blame something and Azazel was that perfect scapegoat. 

Ash waited to see if Dean would quickly flip the page before she could read the whole story about Mary, but he sat back in the library chair and waited. Ash skimmed over the work. John wrote about no feelings and emotions but reading between the lines and all Ash saw was guilt and frustration. 

Slowly, after done reading, Ash flipped the page where the first monster was shown. A ghost, once again there were a couple pictures which were all blurry and the normal ramblings of a mad man. 

   “Ghosts…” Dean took a huff of breath as if readying himself. “Are people who died who haven’t moved on. They have something holding them here. Usually it’s their bones or a item they were attached to during life and now are attached by it in death as well, a cursed object it’s called. When ghosts are stuck on this earth, even if they were good people while alive being here changes them. They turn evil and are no longer the person they originally were. The only reason to get rid of the ghosts is to salt and burn whatever they’re attached to.” Dean informed her. “Rock salt guns and iron help keep them away but they don’t kill them.” Ash flipped through more pages, the next couple pages were about werewolves and then witches. That went on for about ten pages until it changed to shifters. Near the end were new entries about vampires, or new compared to the others in there. However the last bit of the book were entries in different hand writing. They were on demons and angels and at the top were D.W and S.W depending on the page. Entries that they wrote probably after the death of their father and right at the beginning of their knowledge of angels and demons. Most notes were pretty elementary and it looked like they weren’t updated in years. 

   “These are your notes?”

   “Sam and I thought about continuing his notes, especially when we discovered angels and stuff but we sort of forgot about dad’s journal now. Everything he wrote about we pretty much know. We’ve dealt with most of the monsters he wrote about. It more of a...memory now. I actually haven’t taken this out in a while.” And who knew when was the last time he looked through it. He chose not to. He didn’t want to open up old wounds. 

Ash looked over the note on angels dated back a couple years ago. 

_ August 11th, 2008 _

_ I died, dad. I did as I promised and I protected Sammy. I sold my soul to save him and I was ready to spend the rest of my death in hell...hell was horrible. I did so many horrible things that I am disgusted I did. I had no choice, at least I didn’t think I did but I  _ wanted  _ to do these things. I took pleasure in fucking people over and I don’t know how I am going to live with myself now. I deserve to be in there but somehow I am alive now. Don’t ask me why, dad, because I couldn’t tell you. _

_ The last week has been nothing but confusion for myself and Sam. I came back last week, I found Sam and we tracked down the person - for lack of a better word - that brought me back. He is an angel by the name of Castiel. Yes. An angel. He’s...odd. Angels in general are so inhuman. They take the vessel of some religious nut, they take control while the person is trapped on the inside and isn’t able to get out. For Cas, hsi vessel is named Jimmy Novac. I can’t help but feel sorry for the poor bastard. I wonder if this is what he thought it would be like to be a vessel of an angel. _

_ Castiel, although appears human, is anything but. He talks like a robot, in constant mono-tone and he doesn’t get things like sarcasm or jokes. None of the angels do. He calls himself an angel of God (literally, he addressed himself as the angel of the lord when we first met). I’m still trying to figure out what sort of powers he has. He can heal people, he can teleport people as well as himself but it’s fucks you up. I hate traveling that way. He also has this sort of...angel radio that talk to other angels.  I don’t know why Cas pulled me out of hell, but I know that it can’t possibly be for anything good. Since when did anything good ever happen to a Winchester? _

 

_ October 8th 2008 _

_ Angels are dicks. They are the high and mighty yet far too high and mighty for their own good. Sure, they’re the angels of the lord but they’re no better than us humans who they look down on us like we would looked down on a cockroach. Castiel could be the only acception to this rule, he started out weird and hell he still is but he doesn’t look at humans the same way other angels do. Sammy and I have been teaching him more about human culture, he’s...beginning to get jokes but sarcasm is still a whole other lesson for a whole new day.  _

_ I’m not going to lie, I don’t know how this is all going to work out. The reason I was brought back was because apparently i’m a vessel for the archangel Michael and Sammy is the vessel for the devil, Lucifer. Lucifer had rebelled against God and was cast down into hell and now Michael and Lucifer want to fight it out. If they were humans I would tell them to go at it. Sam and I solve our fights by giving each other a couple rounds to the face and then we go out for pie afterwards, but they want to cause the apocalypse. We’re...the only ‘true’ vessels for either of them. The two brothers. Why is it always us? Why does shit always happen to us? I keep telling Sam that this can’t happen, i’m not giving in and neither is he but how long can we hold out like this? How long until Lucifer and Michael find another vessel and start the apocalypse? We can’t hold out forever.  _

_ Angels are not like the white winged holy things that you see on ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ cards you buy in the drug store. You kill them with a special blade, we’ve been calling an angel blade. They run on this stuff called grace which give them their power. They’re powerful, just like demons are but Sammy and I can take down one or two if we need to.  _

_ I don’t know if there is a way out of this this time. I shouldn’t be alive now, anyways. I should be rotting in hell...but I have to protect Sammy.  _

 

“You’ve continued John’s diary?” Ash finished reading over the delicate words of a strong man. She was ready for him to rip the journal out of her hands and rush upstairs at the clearly sensitive information, but Dean just sat back showing little emotion. 

   “It’s not a diary, it’s a journal.” Dean commented

   “Well what’s the difference?”

   “Dad got the journal to write about monsters in it, to help hunters in the future and to use for a reference guide especially for me and Sam.”

   “However you took over the ‘journal’ and began writing in it like a diary. Or as if you expect your father to reply to you even though he is dead.” Maybe it was a human thing? The same reason why humans made a big deal out of death. In the North American culture they would dress up their loved ones in their best close and spend all the inheritance on a coffin and a grave stone which said the same common words over and over again. ‘Will never be forgotten’, ‘Always loved’, ‘Rest in Piece’. They worshiped the dead as if the dead cared.

   “It’s not a diary.” Dean just repeated again. 

   Ash smile “You keep a diary.” she teased a bit. A small smile crossed Dean’s face but the sadness didn’t fade. 

   “Journal.” He corrected again. Ash opened her mouth to say something else but another small entry caught her eye.

 

_ 2008 _

_ You never told me we had a brother. _

 

    “You have a brother?” Dean froze again as he had been doing each time Ash asked about his family. The uncomfortable topic of family clearly something Dean didn’t enjoy talking about but Ash was far too curious to let it go. Another Winchester? The Winchesters were admittedly effective hunters, they both caused and stopped the apocalypse countless times and another out there? What it that mean?

   “Kind of, we had a half brother named Adam.”

   “Had?”

   “Well...you read about how I was suppose to be the vessel for Michael and Sam was the vessel for Lucifer, right?” Ash nodded “Because Adam was technically a Winchester he counted as another vessel for Michael. I refused to be his vessel so Adam agreed after Michael convinced him that he was ‘doing the right thing’ or whatever. Sam agreed to be Lucifer's vessel. The two hardly fought, in the short of it they both were thrown into the cage and that’s where they are now.”

   “So...Sam is back but Adam is not? Have you tried saving him?”

   “Admittedly...no, we haven’t tried. I feel sort of bad about it but if we try to get Adam out it will only cause more problems. Michael may get out with Adam or the cage may be more damaged than it already it. And then there is the fact that Adam has spent years in the cage which would be thousands of years in hell years. Sam lost his soul after a couple months, image how Adam would be now? He wouldn’t be Adam anymore, he would be insane, soulless, broken. It’s better for everyone if we just...leave Adam there.” Ash heard the loud footsteps coming from down the hall. Their conversation on Adam was now over, it made sense, Dean’s logic. Ash would say the same thing. You have to think of the greater good and just rescuing one person from hell would put so many more people at risk. Adam wasn’t a person anymore, he spent too long in there. Ash could only imagine how it felt. She’s never really been to hell, or at least not that she has remembered. She knew that it had to be cruel and tortuous and home to the worst pain that a person could possibly imagine. 

Sam sat his laptop on the library table, looking at both Dean and Ash. “I think I tracked down Nrueil.”

   “How?” Ash quickly demanded.

   “There were reports of this guy acting strange in town. His family had reported him missing yesterday night. After a lot of hacking I was able to find a security camera with him with black eyes. Through a long, complicated process that’s probably very illegal I was able to track him down to a bar in town.” Sam straightened up and looked proud of himself. 

   “Why would he be back in the town where we found him in the first place?” Dean asked “Isn’t that sort of begging us to come after him?”

   “I don’t know, but I suggest to get down there and try to catch him and bring him back to the bunker. Maybe we can get him to speak.” Sam suggested. 

   “Do you want to leave now?” Dean began packing up the journal, Ash took one last glance of the piece of Winchester history, she was able to just catch a glimpse of the family photo in the front one more time before Dean dumped the journal into the box of items they haven’t been able to get to yet. 

   “Yeah, who knows how long he’s going to be there.”

   “I want to go!” Ash piped in quickly, standing up quickly as if ready to bolt out the door and into the impala at any given moment. 

   “You’re joking?” Dean asked with a hint of a laugh in his tone that was almost insulting to the woman. She ignored it. “Ash, we already agreed that you need to stay back with Cas. He’s already beginning to get worse we don’t want a repeat of what happened the other day. Besides, if anything happens to you then Cas is a gonner. There’s no debate about it, you’re staying here with him. Sam and I won’t take long, we’ve kidnapped angels and demons before.”

   “I’ve been training all day, I want to try it out! Castiel will be fine for just a little bit and besides, I can be used as bait. He wants me so let him have me. He’s going to be in the bar and we obviously can’t go and start a fight with him there. He know you two are out to get him and it’ll take so much more time if you just sit in the impala and wait for Nuriel to be finished. I can lure him out. And if something does go wrong, because - need I remind you - he is an angel and you two are only hunters despite how high you hold yourselves. I still have my powers, i’m a backup, if something goes wrong I will be able to take care of Nuriel on my own. I won’t get hurt.” Sam seemed a little convinced, Ash watched his hazel eyes move to his stubborn brother who continued clearing the table as if he hadn’t even heard what Ash said. 

   “There’s no debate about it, Ash. You’re staying here for your own good and for Cas’ sake.”

   “Dean come on! I cannot sit here until you two magically conjure up a solution to getting me back into Castiel. I will go mad, I promise you. And you will not like to see me when I am mad. I will go crazy. I’m asking for this night, just going out to the bar to get Nuriel and bring him back. What possible damage could I do when I have powers of my own? I’ve aided Castiel in wars and battles beyond your comprehension. I can handle one stupid angel!” Dean turned on his heel, marching up to Ash, closer to her than she would have liked but she held her ground. 

   “You’re not goi-” 

   “Dean,” Sam interrupted, he stood by the two of them who were in a face off. Neither one of them dared to break eye contact. Someone could practically see the tension between the two of them, a war was going on. “Ash isn’t a child, Dean. And frankly she is Cas’ grace…”

   “Which is exactly why she needs to stay here.” Dean was the first to break eye contact. He backed up a bit and stared at Sam like he was insulted that his brother was a traitor. He was taking Ash’s side over his own.

   “And I agree, she needs to stay here with Cas most of the time but even if she is his grace she also is part human. We can’t keep her here forever. This will be good practice for her with training. Cas will be okay for just a couple hours. Once this one is done then Ash won’t go out for any other cases for a while.”

   “Yeah.” Ash quickly hopped the bandwagon. “I won’t go on anymore cases unless you two insist I must. I will keep to Cas’ side at all time.” Dean was on breaking point, he looked to Ash’s hopeful expression once more and then decided to give up. His strict, upright posture fell into a defeated slouch only for a millisecond before straightening up, trying to regain power and composure. 

   “Fine, but just this once.”


	10. Misery

“Do you see anyone?” Ash sat back eagerly in the passenger's side of the impala. The low sound of music on the radio was barely audible especially over Dean’s loud chomps on the hamburger he ate and the loud slurps of the large fountain pop that was nearly finished. Ash was half way through a chicken burger but didn’t have the energy nor the willpower to finish it. Not only did it taste like road kill fresh off hot pavement after being hit by a monster truck in the hottest of summer days but the adrenaline of getting ready for the chase was getting to her. In a few minutes, after Dean finishes his burger and after they spot Nuriel, the chase would begin. Ash would be sent inside to casually lure Nuriel out in the back and away from everyone else. Dean would be waiting there and then they would be able to take him down, bring him back to the bunker and torture him for information. It was the waiting that was getting to her now.

   “No” He didn’t sound like he cared much about what Ash said, actually, she didn’t think he even listened to her question. He was too focused on his mess of a burger. 

   “When can we go inside. I thought this was going to be quick. We already know where Nuriel is, why are we having this...what did you call it? Stake out?”

   “It takes longer than fifteen minutes, Ash.” Dean said in the middle of a bite. “I don’t want to send you in there if he isn’t there. It’ll work better for all of us if we wait until he comes outside the bar, it’ll be easier for you to lure him into the back alley there and i’ll pull the impala up and we’ll take him back to the bunker. We can’t rush into it, though. If i’ve learned anything through my life of hunting it’s that you can’t rush things.”

   “Yeah, but I thought a stake out would be more fun. Like what you see on those cop shows Castiel has been watching. When I convinced you to take me with you I thought we would be running around down the street chasing him with guns or something, anything more exciting than just sitting in your car eating greasy food. Are you even sure Nuriel is in this bar? I’m impressed Sam was able to track his vessel. The fact that Nuriel stayed close to where we are is surprising but i’m sure he did this with a plan in his head. He had a chance to go anywhere in the world when he smoked out and he chose some nobody in the town next to where we were about to kill him?” Ash rested her chin on her arm, aimlessly watching all the sleezy guys drunkenly walk in and out of the sketchy downtown bar. The bar was called ‘Captain Joe’s’ according to the large green neon sign that hung on top of the building. However the ‘a’, ‘c’ and ‘t’ in Captain were out so it looked more like ‘Pain Joe’s’. 

   “Sam’s better at research than I am. He was able to look up the vessel who Nuriel is possessing, apparently he is a man named Thomas Harrison. He had a family, two kids and a wife back home. He worked as an investor or something at a bank. Apparently the most normal guy you could think of, dad jokes and all. He should stand out in a bar like this one.” Dean gave an innocent shrug and took another bite of the burger. “You know if you didn’t want to do this you shouldn’t have begged me to come.” 

   “I wouldn’t call it begging. It was...convincing.” Ash shrugged back, her eyes returning back out the window and onto the bar with the sleazy looking biker gangs and wobbly drunks trying to get from one place to another.

   “I don’t know, I recall hearing something along the lines as ‘please, Dean, let me come on the hunting trip with you’.” His voice reached two octaves higher, taunting Ash some more with a smile plastered on his face. 

   “I did not say that nor do I sounds anything like that.” Ash gave an obvious eye roll of her light blue eyes. “I want some kind of action.” the blonde continued “I’ve been cooped up inside the bunker for what seems like ages. I have watched Friends on rerun for days and I am absolutely sick of it. They were on a break, I get it. I need to get out and do something before I lose my mind. I proved myself yesterday when I, quite literally, kicked your ass. Now I want to hunt with you guys.” Dean laughed loudly, Ash almost jumped and quickly looking around as if she were afraid everyone would look at them. No one did. 

   “You did not kick my ass.”

   “I won, didn’t I?” she questioned, Ash adopted the same taunting tone Dean used on her before. With sass in her voice and a eyebrow cocked and summed all up with a cocky half smile. Confidence began rising in her voice.

   “I let you win.” Dean dismissed

   “Certainly didn’t look like it, the way you keeled over when I kicked you in the p-”

   “The fight is not over, if this will be the way you act every time we practice then I’ll be sure to go hard on you next time.” Dean reached over the turned on the radio, it was quiet so they could hear people around them and the people around them wouldn’t draw their attention to the already stand out vintage car in the middle of a makeshift garbage pile. “How about some music in the meantime, then.” It was a statement rather than a question, the music was already on and he began to flip through channels. Dean didn’t seem pleased with any of the half ass songs on the radio however Ash stopped him quickly when he reached one of the stations. The sound of low saxophones mumbled through the impala in a nice, slow melody. Dean looked at her, confused for a second. 

   “Keep it, I like it.” Then music was easy to move to, it fit a nice, slow rock back and forth as a man began to sing the lyrics in a chilled, passionate and relaxing tone. It was a relaxing song unlike all the Metallica Dean had her listen to while driving here. Although Metallica was great and music in general was a oddity that only humans could come up with, a gift that Ash was glad she had the chance to experience, she noted on the differences between each genre, each band...even each song had their own feel to it. While one song was hard rocking, hard core and made you want to scream the lyrics so loud that people in China could hear there were also songs that had a softer vibe, you wanted to go to sleep or close your eyes while listening to them. Ash had the instinct to begin to rock back and forth slowly with the rhythm. 

   “This?” He asked with a slight laugh “It’s Careless Whisper by George Michael...or Wham...same thing. Anyways, you like this?” Dean repeated.

   “Yes, I like it. It has a nice feel to it. The saxophone especially is so melodic and entrancing. It’s peaceful, and although I do enjoy the music like your Metallica and that other band you were talking about...what was it? AB/CD?”

   “AC/DC”

   “Yeah well, that. It’s nice when you feel in that sort of mood but this is just...relaxing. Why? Do you not enjoy this song?”

   “It’s a sex song…”

   “What?”

   “It’s a nice song and everything but that ‘feel’ to it is more seductive and you generally listen to it while you’re having...sex.”

   “What?”

   “A sex song. It’s not usually a song you listen to just because you feel like it. You listen to it with...someone else. It sets a nice mood.” Dean slowly began to stiffen more and more. 

   “What is sex?” Dean paused for a second, his mouth opened as if trying to find words to explain the birds and the bees. Ash watched in amusement at the stammering man. Ash couldn’t ever picture Dean blushing however if he did then this would be the time. “I’m joking, yes I know what sex it. Why you humans think of it as so intimate and embarrassing to talk about is something I will never understand.” Dean’s posture fell, seeming relieved. “But anyways, I never knew that humans had to listen to songs while having intercourse. Is it a law?”

   “No no no, it’s not...like that.” Dean stammered some more, how the hell do you give ‘the talk’ to a grown woman? Dean wanted nothing more than to have their suspected angel showing up right now. “You don’t  _ have  _ to play it, it just helps set the mood.”

   “Do  _ you _ play this song while partaking in intercourse?”

   “Well uh...I guess sometimes. Maybe we should ju-”

   “So it’s just more pleasurable when you play it? When the song comes on do you have to _ have _ sex? Do we need to have sex now?”

   “What?” Dean managed to get just that bit in while Ash began to list off her many questions like gunshots during a war. Constantly and one after the other. “No no no, you don’t have to have sex when you hear the songs, it’s just something you can do. You don’t  _ have  _ to do.” Dean laughed awkwardly. 

   “Humans are so odd. You creatures are fascinating, really. While all other animals on this earth have sex for the pure need to procreate you...actually take meaning to it. It’s almost sacred. You think of things to make sex better and you don’t just have sex to procreate you...do it for pleasure and for closeness with one another. No other creature does such a thing, actually I think dolphins do too. It’s so fascinating. And all of these feelings and emotions over just sex. An act as common as brushing your teeth or tying your shoe. It shouldn’t mean as much as it does yet it does.”

   “I think you’re thinking too far into this. Sex is sex, yes. When you have sex with someone you care about it’s...special. It’s not ‘just sex’ if you do it right.”

   “I am glad that I am a human, even if it is just for a short time. Studying humans and their emotions, feelings, and acts has been very interesting. You in particular. You’re emotions and thoughts are complicated yet not complicated at all. You express yourself differently than you feel. You get mad when you’re sad, you joke when things are awkward or you get defensive.”

Dean couldn’t say she was wrong. Both in the sense that not only are humans confusing but he is confusing. He’s been told that many times. Humans are confusing, trying to figure out people is a really hard thing to do and Ash was trying to do that with Dean. He almost felt like a test subject, however it wasn’t a necessarily bad thing. He was looking forward to what she concluded. “What are you thinking right now?” she asked

   “I’m thinking about how I should have gotten that pie.” Ash laughed, looking over Dean he had just finished his burger and his cup of pop was now completely dry. Silence fell upon the two of them while Careless Whisper played in the background. Everything was just...nice for once. The silence wasn’t awkward nor was it bad. It was peaceful just like the song. He was really disappointed when he looked over and watched a conservative man in his forties walk out of the bar. He geekily pushed his thick brown glasses up his nose and twiddled his thumbs while walking through the group of drunks and bikers. “There” Dean gestured to a man coming out of the bar. He stood out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else in this area. The bar was anything but your classy, expensive bar that middle class and higher class people would go to. It was a place not even the dogs would go to, much like the bar Ash and Dean went to a couple nights ago. Lots of beaten up lemons and bikes were parked outside, no one cared much about parking in the actual parking spots. The faded white lines were merely decoration on the damp pavement meanwhile cars were parked in any other position. Dean found a spot a safe distance from the bar in order to see inside but not close enough to get spotted. “You ready?” Dean turned to Ash who was already halfway out of the impala. She didn’t look at the weird dad like man as per the plan Dean laid out for her before. Don’t look like you know who he is or else it’ll mess everything up. So, pulling out the best acting skills the woman could managed she walked right passed him where she surely got his attention. 

She could feel the presence of something greater than sewer rat drunks following behind her. The soft steps of pristine, clean black shoes echoed down the alley way from a distance. She led him away far enough for nobody to hear or notice. She doubted anyone would even if she just took him out into the parking lot of the bar, she could murder this man and Ash would assume everyone was too drunk to notice or care. Ash took a quick turn to the right where two large, red brick buildings kept her enclosed and trapped from the man who had quickly come up behind her, grabbing her so quickly that Ash let out a stunned gasp. 

   “Miss me, princess?” The angel’s breath smelled strongly of alcohol, his eyes wide and red. Unstable and unfriendly. Ash pushed him off and backed away closer to the wire fence that blocked people from getting through to the other side of town. It would be easy enough to climb up it if she had to. 

   “Nuriel.” Ash confirmed for him. The man showed a evil smile with his perfectly white teeth. His dark hair was now pushed all over the place resembling some evil villain from a comic book rather than the dad that the vessel was. Before his hair would have been combed back, slick and made sure that no hairs stood out. He wore only the comfiest of sweaters, today it was a ugly brown sweater with a couple of knitted on shapes. It was a the Christmas sweaters ugly cousin. 

Nuriel didn’t waste anytime and charged at her again and with his inhuman speed he caught up to her and shoved her against the fence. Ash let out a cry, the rails on the fence were sure to leave bruises for tomorrow. Dean couldn’t be far away, she looked to the front of the alley and waited to see the impala come busting inside, Dean would get out and rip Nuriel off of her. They could easily tie him up, knock him out and take him back to the bunker where they would question him until he talked. However no impala came and Ash began to get increasingly worried. 

She struggled under Nuriel’s grasp trying to push him away however the substantially weak looking man was a lot more stronger when he had to be. “I tried to give you a choice, grace. This will be for the better.” Nuriel grabbed the angel blade from his side and put it up to her neck. In a single move he would slit her throat open and let her grace bleed out and into him. She felt the cold metal of the knife against her skin, her hair on her arms beginning to rise up. Now was a good time for the defense lessons Dean taught her to come in handy. However one lesson wasn’t doing any good until she remembered her fight with Dean. Ash swung her leg up as hard as she could possibly manage and hit him right in the crotch. Nuriel moaned and backed away, letting Ash go free just as the black vintage car came racing to the rescue. 

Dean barged out of the car with an angel blade in his hand and didn’t look twice as he went up to Nuriel, grabbed him and tossed him against the brick wall. Nuriel wasn’t too hurt by that as he easily got back up and charged towards Dean. The two fought it out physically for a second or two until Dean was able to push him down, he was about to put the knife threateningly close to his throat as if he were to kill him. Dean flew across the alleyway the moment he stepped an inch closer towards the beaten up angel. Dean hit the other side of the alley hard and didn’t get up as he fell onto the garbage covered ground. The blade flew out of his hands and skidded down to the other end of the alley. “Ash! Get the cuffs from the back of the impala!” Dean called as he tried to get up. It was a slow and painful process that gave Nuriel enough time to get up and get to Dean before he could defend himself. The angel grasped the hunter by the throat, cutting off all air. He tried to breath but there was nothing that came out besides desperate choking sounds. 

   “I had just about enough of you Winchesters…” Dean’s vision began to go black, his face going blue and he was sure that this may be his last moment. He died about a hundred times before and being strangled to death by an angel was not his desired way to go. If Dean had to pick how to die, it would either be something interesting and original or something plain and normal like...cancer or just falling asleep and never waking up. He hated angels and the fact that he was going to be claimed a victim to them now if Ash didn’t hurry up was a painful thought for the strong hunter. His body began to lose all energy and he felt himself collapse right to the ground, Nuriel hadn’t stayed there to ensure that this was his last breath, though. The moment he fell Nuriel’s oddly soft hands left his throat and Dean took a huge gulping breath as if this were his first in years. After a fit of coughing and taking more gulps of air his vision came back and he could see Ash and Nuriel fighting it out. Although what he saw wasn’t exactly fighting, it was victory.

Ash had tossed Nuriel to the other side of the alley again, so hard that this time blood began to leak from his forehead and down past his hazel eyes. Ash didn’t give him any time to get up. She marched over to the defeated man, pressed her hands against his forehead and the angel was out like a light. Yes an  _ angel  _ had been put out by the womanly grace. His chest still moved in staggered off breaths, he was still alive. Ash quickly put the holy and warded handcuffs on him as Dean found the energy to get up and slowly made his way over to her and help Nuriel into the back of the impala. He was sure to ward the car some more to ensure the man couldn’t get out. 


	11. Angel

With a beer in hand Sam typed away on his laptop, the only light in the room being the small lamp on the table in front of him and the glow from the laptop screen. It was around ten at night and still Dean and Ash weren’t back, Sam wasn’t worrying or anything but he couldn’t help but...wonder whether or not it was a good idea to send Ash off with him. Putting the idea of Cas to the side there was also the fact that Ash had one lesson in training and killing the supernatural, grace or not Sam didn’t feel right with sending her out there like that. Dean was going to have to carry them now and hopefully they were going to be back soon. 

Although since Ash went with Dean, Sam was able to continue his research which was leading to constant dead ends. The moment the man thought he was going to get somewhere he was stopped in his tracks and forced to back up. Books from the Men of Letters cluttered the long table in the library, Sam had them organized into sections. One section was a ten book tall stack of old leather journals about magic. It was a broad subject Sam only decided to touch on. Most of the journals were about spells or witches, none even touched on the thought of angels. In another pile were a couple open books, their binding was hand done and their pages were thick and brittle as if it was made thousands of years ago. Sam was sure to be careful with those ones, flipping the pages as if they would crumble upon impact. The writing in the books were faded by now, a magnifying glass sat to the side allowing Sam to take a closer look at the yellow pages. Those books were about angels and demons, there were only a couple of them and the information inside the boys already knew about. Inside these journals the Men of Letters talked about the theory of angels and demons. Demons were touched upon more than angels who were written off as a theory and that’s just about it. There were reports inside of people seeing angels and demons, there were a few people who even put out ideas on how to contact them and how to kill them. Thus the first documented devils trap that Sam could note in the journals, these ones had to be the oldest of the bunch. Despite all the information being interesting and certainly gave Sam a new view on how the Men of Letters thought and what they knew, it didn’t help them with their current problem. 

Sam read over some ‘very interesting information’ on his laptop, the screen showed a makeshift website which looked as unprofessional as a hobo working at Apple. The background of the website was pitch black which made the glittery white comic sans font stick out like a sore thumb. The title of the website read ‘Heaven’s Corner’ with a gif of a glittery, stock image of a halo going around and around on the ‘o’. There were a couple drawings of angels littered around the screen and blocks of paragraphs (all in comic sans) which rambled on about angels and demons and how God and the angels were always watching or whatever religious crap some people talked about. By now the youngest Winchester wasn’t looking at the poorly made website as if it could tell him anything about Ash but instead he was reading it with a smile on his face, laughing every so often in amusement. 

Behind him, Sam could hear the staggered steps of someone coming down the stairs, unsurprisingly it was Cas. Any hint of health in the man from before now disappeared leaving Cas in that same depressing, sickening state he was in before Ash came into the picture. He resembled a flu patient stuck in a cancerous ward in a broken down hospital rather than an angel of the lord. His skin tinted green and his blue eyes were dark, murky and grey. His dress shirt was in dire need of a wash, although Cas wouldn’t wash it despite Sam trying to get him to for a couple days now. His trench coat was missing and his tie was gone. 

   “Hey Cas…” It was like going to see a sick person in a hospital who clearly looked like they were on death’s door but you didn’t want to be the person to point that out. You would talk to the person and try your best to act as though everything was normal however because you’re trying so hard to act like everything is normal you sound more and more fake as time goes on. Castiel could hear that in Sam’s voice, trying to sound normal but failing substantially. “You should sit down…” Castiel held onto the back of the chair but refused to sit.

   “I’m fine.” Still Castiel persisted on, while one hand was hanging on for dear life on the chair the other was wrapped around his abdomen as if trying to conceal the pain. It was more than a constant, heart aching, chest pounding, verge of vomiting throbbing like before. It was a steady pain that intensified within the passing minutes. There was no way to describe it that would paint a clear picture of his pain. In short, it was the worst pain someone could imagine and times it by a hundred. With that in mind, even when Sam saw how beat up the ex angel was, Sam admired the strength in him. While any normal person would have quit by now, crawled up into a ball and began to cry, Castiel still carried on. After all, he was downstairs now, standing up and refusing to let the pain persuade him into sitting down. 

Castiel opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Within seconds the angel came falling down onto the ground again and Sam quickly ran to his side. Unlike before, Castiel didn’t begin a fit of bloody coughs nor did he cry out in pain. He lay still on the wooden floor, his eyes closed and his chest motionless. 

   “Cas!” Sam yelled, hoping to wake him up from the sleeping state he was in. Castiel was cold, his pulse was beating slowly almost to the point where there was no pulse at all.

 

_____________________________________

 

“Did you see that?! That was awesome! And when you came in, to be honest I almost thought you weren’t going to come but nope! And then when he threw you against the wall like that! I just jumped in there, I didn’t even think about it, it was just...reaction! Holy crap that was awesome!” Ash fell back again into the back of the passengers side seat in the impala. Dean tried to focus on the road, they weren’t too far from the bunker, thankfully. “The way he just passed out like that, if I knew Nuriel was that easy to take care of I would have offered to come by myself.”

   “Alright Ms.Boastful.” Dean said with a smile, Ash had been going on about the fight throughout the whole car ride, by the time they would get back to the bunker all the adrenaline would have left her system but the pride of being the one to capture Nuriel, chain him up and throw him into the back of the impala would never fade. Dean remembered the first time he had killed a monster, and even though he has killed thousands since then that pride of his first would always be remembered. So he let Ash have her time with going over the same story with the same details over and over again, she deserved it. Nuriel was still passed out in the back of the impala, seemingly sound asleep complete with snoring. “What did you do to him anyways?” Ash went silent for a second, looked back to Nuriel and then to Dean and shrugged. 

   “I’m not sure, really. I don’t really...know all my powers, i’m not used to using them since Castiel handles it. However the closest thing I know that he can perform what is sort of like a...sleeping spell, you could call it. It knocks someone out for a while. Although it doesn’t usually work on angels since they can’t sleep or anything. I’m not sure but it doesn’t matter right now anyways because it was just so awesome.” She went on again, smiling along as she began to go over all the details of the story again however she stopped dead in her tracks just at the part where she would lure Nuriel into the alley. Dean looked over to her, her face went blank except for a hint of worry in her blue eyes.

   “Ash?”

   “Something’s wrong.” she said quickly, all joking, playful tones in her voice left and defaulted back to serious, monotone, and strict.

   “What happened?”

   “Dean we have to go, we have to get back to the bunker now.”

   “Okay well we’re almost there…”

   “Almost isn’t good enough, Dean. Something is wrong with Castiel”

   “Ash, I can’t go any faster than this, okay? We’re going to be there soon. What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked

   “I don’t know exactly but I can feel it. Hurry up Dean.” She pressed on, fidgeting and constantly looking out the window. Dean’s phone began to ring that instant after and, without looking away from the road, Dean took it out and answered it, already pretty sure who was the on the other line. 

   “Dean?” the voice of his brother said.

   “Yeah look there’s been a…”

   “Cas isn’t doing too good, Dean. He got out of bed and collapsed. He’s barely breathing, his pulse is slow…”

   “I know, we’re on our way. We’ll be there soon.” Dean hung up quickly and floored it.

When they got to the bunker Ash took no time to rush inside the moment Dean parked the impala in the garage. She rushed inside and ran around the bunker like a mad man only to find Cas back in his bedroom. The angel looked worse than Ash had originally thought, his chest barely moved up and down, you could see the staggered, slow, short breaths of a dying man. Ash quickly looked around the room, like you would suspect in a hunters bunker there was a couple weapons lying around the bedroom, Ash grabbed the small knife from off of the bed side table and without hesitation she slit her arm, blood began to leak from the wound and onto Castiel’s dirty white dress shirt as she put her arm close to him. Sam and Dean, who had just came into the room in time to see, watched in amazement as a white glowing substance began to float out of the wound and into Castiel’s mouth. Ash covered it quickly after a bit had gone into his mouth, enough so Castiel took a deep breath and slowly got up. He was no longer sick looking, the bags were still there and his blue eyes still seemed more grey than blue but the green tint was noe gone and he didn’t look like he was on the verge of throwing up anymore. With Cas looking better Ash looked a bit worse. The moment Castiel sat up properly Ash fell over, Dean rushed over, catching her just before she hit the ground. 

   “Ash?!” Dean said worriedly, Ash quickly opened her eyes again. 

   “I’m fine…” Ash dismissed, like angel like grace. She quickly stood up again despite being a little dizzy. She made sure to keep the wound covered, Sam rushed to grab the first aid kit in the bathroom. “It’s not a permanent fix.” Ash explained finally as Sam came back with the kit and they applied the bandage onto her arm. “But it’ll have to do for now.” There was something else, though. Dean could spy the look between Ash and Castiel, the matching look of sadness, worry.  

   “What was that? You...gave him part of your grace or something?” Dean asked

   “Yes.” Cas answered for her. “Ash is made up completely of grace, humans have souls, instead of a soul Ash has a grace to keep her alive. She was able to give up that little bit of grace to help me, it’s the reason why the kiss she gave me the other day helped. She gave a little bit of grace to me that time too however this was...much more.”

   “Well...that’s good, right? We figured out a way for Ash to slowly give you back your grace.” Dean asked, again Cas and Ash exchanged the familiar sad, blue eyed look. 

   “Well...kind of.” Castiel trailed on before Ash spoke up.

   “Dean, as Castiel explained grace is like my soul. If I don’t have it I cease to exist. While Sam was able to survive for a while without a soul, if my memory serves me correct, I am not able to survive without my - Cas’- grace. I will die. I...admit I was being a bit selfish before by not realizing that I could just give all my grace to him. If I keep giving him little bits of grace it will be a slow and painful death for me. While Castiel will get better I will soon get worse just like Castiel is now. I don’t want to die that way, I don’t want to die at all which is why I didn’t...mention it before. I wanted to experience human life a little and although I don’t feel like I have even touched the surface of humans and their world I...have to do what is best for my angel. I will not wait around for you two to find a solution because, frankly, there is none. The only option I see if that I just kill myself now.” Ash tightened the grip on the knife she still held in her hand. She didn’t want to die, it was selfish, she knew that very well but it was a human emotions were getting to her again. In the end she had a duty, above everything else her job was to protect her angel. She was not meant to be a human. However Dean seemed to think opposite, quickly jumping in to stop her train of thought. 

   “No, there has to be some other way.” the stubborn man stated, his aggressive voice raised louder as if he felt there was a need to shout even though everyone was in the small room and none of them were deaf. Sam stayed silent.

   “There isn’t.” Ash looked to Dean sadly but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

   “I’ll talk to him.” Sam said as he turned to follow Dean marching down the hall but Ash stopped him before his hand reached the doorknob. 

   “No, I will. I know more about this than you do. He will have theories and questions that you cannot answer.” Sam didn’t argue, he silently nodded and stepped out of her way. Ash followed the noise of Dean heavy foot steps down the hall. She trailed them down the hallway of bedrooms and spare rooms Ash never really knew what they were used for. She watched him quickly descend the spiral iron staircase and disappear into the library again. When Ash caught up with him she saw him with letters and books from the Men of Letters in his hands, scouring the piles Sam laid out for any hint of information. He would find none. “Dean…” Ash spoke softly and stuck her hands in her jean pockets. She leaned against the archway into the room, watching the man as he focused on the letters. He didn’t answer her. “Dean.” She repeated a little stricter this time. Still nothing. In a split second they were no longer in the bunker. Dean wasn’t focused on the letters and journals. It looked more like a photo on a greeting card, it was impossibly beautiful. The sky was elegantly painted in beautiful pastel purples and oranges. In the background of the photographic landscape there were large pointed mountains, from where Dean and Ash stood they could clearly see the snow sitting on the top of them. The sun was setting, hidden behind the large mountains and creating a ripple effect through the sky. There was a large, crystal clear lake separating them from the mountains. It looked more like a mirror than a lake since it didn’t move or ripple. The two of them were standing by a fresh pink cherry tree, a park bench seated right underneath that had a clear view of the park they were in. There was large gardens full of fresh flowers that were probably taken care of on a regularly basis however it didn’t look there was even a soul near them. The beautiful landscape looked untouched by human hands, if someone were to waltz through here it would for sure bring down the overall beauty of this place. Ash was seated on the bench under the cherry tree, looking around in awe at the world around her. 

   “Where are we?” Dean looked around, observing the stillness in all the life here. There wasn’t even a subtle breeze, everything was silent. It felt like a sin to so much as talk, like if you were in a library so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

   “You have to calm down, Dean.” Ash stated with a calm smile as if she completely forgotten about the fact that she had just suggested her own suicide in order to save Castiel.

   “How can you relax?” He asked with disbelief in his deep voice. Dean wouldn’t let her die, there was no way in hell he would let someone else die on his watch. “How can you just ignore the fact that you suggested killing yourself in order to save Cas? In my experience there is always another option.”

   “Relax for now, Dean. Ignore everything regarding my death. It kills the mood.” She joked “Call this my...mind palace. It’s a place where you can just relax and forget about everything. I picked out some of my favourite things about earth and put it here. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I would love to meet God one day and compliment him on the beauty he created.” Dean scoffed a bit.

   “Oh I think he knows.” Ash looked out into the distance, out onto the mountains and the setting sun. It was paradise in many people’s eyes. A place not many people would have the chance to see. Dean didn’t want to just ‘relax’ but it was hard to do anything else when he claimed the empty seat on the bench next to the blonde. 

    “Castiel is lucky that he gets to be on earth. It’s better than heaven where everything is white and angels run around with sticks up their asses thinking they’re all high and mighty. He enjoys earth, he loves being here and especially with you two even if you’re a pain in the ass sometimes. Cas is happy here and I don’t want to be the one to take that away from him. In the end if it is him or me don’t you want to save Castiel?” Ash trailed on, still looking off into the distance. “He is your friend, and I want to do my part in helping him. The way he is now, receiving small bits of my grace at a time, won’t do much good for too long. It helps for a couple days but soon enough he will be on his deathbed once again. It hurts me seeing him that way and I know it hurts you too, he is your best friend after all. I was not meant to be here on earth and sure I rather not die but in the end I am suppose to be with Castiel. It’s not like I am necessarily dead, either. Sure my human vessel is dead and you won’t be able to talk to be directly but I will still be alive in Castiel. I do admit, I enjoy this vessel.” Ash smiled, looking down at herself for a second and then back up, looking to Dean who stared off into the distance. “But not enough to kill an angel.”

   “What if there was another way? What if I can find a way that will keep you alive and give Cas his grace back?”

   “I’ll be interested in hearing what you find, but as far as I know there is no way that can happen.”

   “I’ll find a way.” Ash didn’t argue with him, there wasn’t much of a point to argue with the man since, no matter what she would say, he wouldn’t stop trying to find a solution. Frankly, she didn’t really want him to stop looking for a solution, it made her feel great seeing how persistent Dean was in trying to save a lonely grace. As if he cared for her. Maybe there was a solution, most likely not but the Winchester tended to always find something new and impossible. She didn’t bring him to her mind palace to convince him to give up, she just wanted him to understand her reasoning and, when the time comes, he would be ready for her passing on. 

    “I won’t leave until you’re ready.” Ash sat back, putting a hand over his on the bench. “I won’t leave until you’re ready to admit that there is no other way to save me, but you have to remember that Castiel can’t wait forever. If you’re determined to find a way to save me you’re going to have to do it quickly. Castiel can’t go through this pain anymore, I won’t allow it. With more grace I give him the worse I get as well. So here is my deal.” Ash paused, making sure Dean was paying close attention. “I will give you a week to figure this out. One week to find a way to save both myself and give Castiel his grace back. However if you don’t find a way by the end of the week I will end up dying for him and you cannot get in the way of it. Alright?” Ash’s pale smile didn’t fade, another thing Dean didn’t understand about the girl. Even while staring into the face of death she didn’t look frightened. She just smiled. 

Dean had no clue how the hell he was going to come up with the solution in a week, as far as he was concerned he needed a whole year but he could already tell there was no trying to haggle with her. It was a week or her immediate death. He wasn’t about to give up on her this easily. So, without much hesitation on the deal, Dean looked to her and nodded. 

   “Alright.” He said finally “Deal.”


	12. Can't Help Falling In Love With You

It had only been a day. With the positive news of Casitle’s health improving there also came the crappy news that Nuriel was gone. The angel had woken up from the sleep state he was in, broke out of the impala and escaped from the bunker while everyone else was back inside trying to save Cas. For that Sam was now in a pissed mood and the three of them have been steering clear from the youngest Winchester’s and just let him do his research on his own.

It became more common for Dean and Ash to go on outings, even with Castiel in the iffy stage he was in he wasn’t as bad as he was before Ash gave him part of her grace. In fact, Castiel was doing significantly better. He has been up and walking around the bunker the past day, he started acting like a normal human and not like a patient in a hospital on their deathbed and to add to everything, he has even been helping with research. Dean wanted to think that maybe that’s all the grace he would need for the next while. Maybe he could survive with just that amount of grace inside of him. However Ash jumped at each chance she got to warn him about how Cas will soon deflate like an old balloon by the end of the week, and when that time comes Ash wouldn’t hesitate…

Dean shook the thought out of his head, stress was not what he needed right now, the day consisted of hard core research from everyone in the bunker. No one spoke to each other about anything other than the possibilities they had in mind about keeping Ash alive meanwhile giving Castiel his grace. Unsurprisingly, they came up with a heap of nothing besides angry men and mind blowing headaches. Which was why Dean took this time to drive down the abandoned dirt road. It was just enough distance for only one car to pass by, although he doubted highly he would see any other car coming their way. The path was concealed by thick, large trees that gave way into the forest that surrounded them. If Dean turned off the car you couldn’t hear any sounds beside the light clicking of grasshoppers, the swaying of tree branches rubbing against each other in the wind and the odd prancing of a nearby deer or squirrel. The scenery was beautiful, all of the pine trees were thick and vibrantly green, they rose up tall and when Ash looked all the way up she could clearly see the tired sky full of purples and oranges, the sun beginning to set in the horizon creating a ripple over the treetops. Everything was lovely however Ash’s head still buzzed with questions as to why they were driving down some path probably meant for bikers while they should be back at the bunker with Castiel trying to research ways to save her ass.

   “Why do you never tell me where we’re going?” The impatient girl asked, sitting up from leaning against the window, watching out into the forest in a daze. “Are we going hunting?” she pushed on.

   “Why can’t you just let me surprise you?” Dean asked, looking over at her for a second. Ash had been tapping her fingers impatiently on the door of the impala, her foot tapping along with it. Her jokingly rolled his eyes, knowing she wasn’t paying attention to what he said, and looked back towards the dirt road.

   “Is that a yes?” She asked quickly and Dean heaved a large sigh, not yet defeated.

   “No.” he said nothing more. Ash groaned and bit her lip, continuing to run through all the possibilities of where they were going and why. Surprises, she came to terms with, she was not a fan of. They could end good and they could end bad. You would never know until someone actually told you what the surprise was. Then there was the curiosity to it all. It left her stranded in the dark just waiting for something to sneak up behind her and scare her.

   “Are we going to a bar?” She asked

   “A bar in the forest?” Dean laughed “Just take in the mystery, be surprised.” But Ash just shook her head.

   “No, I don’t like surprises. They leave me...unknowing and and curious. It’s like having this...itch on your back that you can’t get no matter how much you try.”

   “You know, curiosity killed the cat.” Dean mentioned

   “But satisfaction brought it back.” Ash added just as the car pulled off of the road and into an enclosure in the forest. It almost looked like a small abandoned park, in the middle of the enclosure was a rusty old swing set which fit two people however if you sat on it now it would probably break. You could hear the squeaky sound of the chains moving back and forth slightly from the light wind that was pushed towards the north. Aside from the swing set and five large stumps sitting in the middle, there was nothing else there. The tree stumps were all covered in a thick blanket of moss, each one had an empty beer can on top. The two of them got out of the parked car, Ash cocked her head to the side and, likewise to her ‘thinking look’, she raised her eyebrow and tried to connect the dots. Just as she did so, she heard a gun cock behind her and instantly she spun around seeing Dean holding a pistol in his hand. The trunk of the impala wide open, showing the decorative amount of weapons, ammo and symbols hidden inside.

   “This is part two of your training.” Dean said, taking the bullets out of the gun and heading over to where Ash stood. “So today i’m going to teach you how to shoot.” Dean stood behind the girl, positioning her so she faced the five large, mossy tree stumps with the beer cans resting on them.

   “Guns?” Ash asked excitedly as Dean handed her the small pistol, it certainly wasn’t the type of handgun someone would use on television or in movies. It wasn’t slick black and cool looking, the type of gun you could have to your side and shoot an enemy at point blank range and their brains would explode everywhere and you were left to walk away as if it didn’t even bother you. This one was bulky and big, the cylinder was huge and only held a set number of shots which would escape the gun when you pulled the recently polished trigger and escape through the thin barrel. The bottom of the gun was wooden where you held it, otherwise it was an dusty grey with a thin hint of copper. The gun was old, obviously. It was hard to picture a modern day police officer walking around with a gun like this.

   “This is a revolver. We’ll start off with trying to shoot this for now.”

   “Looks old.” Ash criticized, turning the unloaded gun over every which way to get a full view of it. Dean couldn’t help but get a little nervous when she pointed the revolver to herself, closing an eye to get a better view inside the barrel even though there were no bullets in the gun yet. He gently pushed it away from her face so the gun was once again pointed in the other direction.

   “It is, we don’t use this gun for obvious reasons. It’s horrible for hunting, it only holds six bullets but you’re going to have to work your way up to shooting the good guns. I shot my first bullet with this gun, actually. It can be a pain of an ass at times but you should get used to it.”

   “I was kind of thinking it would look...cooler. Not like something you got at a garage sale.” She criticized some more and dropped the gun to her side. It was a weight to hold onto. Someone who was new at shooting would probably get tired easily with a gun like this\\. And lucky little her got the privilege to learn how to use it.

   “Oh, so you _don’t_ want to learn how to shoot a gun? Well let’s just pack up and head back to the bunker. What do you feel like for dinner, I was thinking chinese or pizza?” Dean reached down for the gun and Ash jerked it away.  

   “No, I still want to learn I was just...expecting a...better looking gun.” Dean backed off from the gun. The taller man held out six copper bullets.

   “These are the six bullets for the revolver. You put them in the cylinder here like this.” Dean took the gun from the girl and popped each one into sockets. After all of the bullets were in the cylinder he pushed it into the gun which made a ‘click’ sound. “You only have six shots so you have to make sure not to waste them while fighting. After that you’ll have to load the gun again which will take time that you won’t have during a fight. Adrenaline will kick in, you’ll rush and get shaky and drop the bullets you’re trying to put in the gun. To shoot the gun you have to pull the trigger.” he pointed to trigger below the cylinder and barrel. “Aim the gun at your target, make sure to take your time the first.” Dean stood a distance away from the tree trunks. He planted his feet on the ground sternly about a shoulder's width apart. “The kick back of the gun will probably knock you off your feet the first couple times until you get used to it. Try to plant your feet a distance apart, hold your ground so it’ll be hard to push you back.” He lifted the gun up, both hands on the gun and a finger hovering over the trigger. He took his time aiming, closing an eye and looking towards the beer can on the end. Quickly he pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun echoed through the forest loudly and caused Ash to jump at the sudden cry of the bullet flying out of the gun and through the air until it hit the can right in the middle. The beer can was knocked off and flew across the enclosure. Dean took the last five bullets and handed Ash the gun and the bullets, he reached into his pocket to bring out another bullet so there were now six in her small hand. “And now it’s your turn.” he said with a smile, Ash bit her lip, looking at the unloaded gun again. She nervously laughed and looked to Dean, lost.

   “Right…” she said almost sarcastically. Ash studied the gun for a second and took one of the bullets finally. She attempted to push it into the cylinder like Dean had however it kept falling out or she wouldn’t be able to hold all of the bullets and they would fall onto the forest floor. She could see the smirk on his face as he watched her. After a couple of failed attempt and Ash being minutes close to tossing the gun across the enclosure and knocking over the cans with her grace, Dean decided to interfere. “Ugh, damn it!” she tossed her hands in the air and looked back at Dean “This stupid gun is broken!”

   “It’s not broken, Ash. You just haven’t loaded a gun before. You’re going to get used to it eventually.” Dean headed back to the car quickly, Ash watched the man open up the trunk of the impala and pull out another gun. It looked nicer than the one Ash was hold. It was the same old style however this revolver was glimmering silver opposed to rusted copper. He didn’t take too long, with a pack of bullets in one hand he walked beside Ash and opened the cylinder. “Copy me and take it slow.” he produced the bullet from the box and slowly put it into each hole in the cylinder. He closed it afterwards and it made the click. Ash copied, taking each bullet, putting it inside the gun and closed the cylinder.

She felt a surge of energy rush inside of her at the click of the cylinder. She loaded this gun, a weapon which could kill someone in a couple of seconds and it was now in her hands. She had control over in. In retrospect because of her powers she was always able to kill someone whenever she wanted, she had a supernatural power that humans could only dream of. A gun was only a mundane weapon, a man made invention that shouldn’t give her this powerful feeling since she has witnessed more powerful weapons in her and Cas’ time. However the adrenaline was already running ramped through her body which she could not explain. She felt like a character on her TV shows, the ones who would look the villain dead in the eyes and without a moments thought of hesitation they would pull the trigger and the bullet would hit dead centre in the forehead. It was more than just a gun. She hadn’t hesitated to shoot the thing. Ash raised the heavy gun towards the bottle and pulled it expecting the bullet to hit the one she was loosely aiming at and knock it down just as Dean did with his can. However Ash was thrown back by the recoil of the gun, stumbling back into Dean who was able to catch her before she had time to hit the ground. The blowback of the gun cracked her wrist back a bit and now felt sore while she held it. It probably wasn’t broken. It was a shot Rick Grimes would laugh at, hardly poster worthy with one foot in front of the other, gun to shoulder height, target locked in sights. The bullet ended up flying in the opposite direction Ash intended and hit a tree to the right. Her face quickly heated up red and she stood up, pushing away from Dean a bit before she lost all her dignity.

   “Thanks…” Ash mumbled in a low voice as she dusted off the dirt from her jeans.

   “Mind if I help you now?” Dean asked, waiting for Ash’s nod “Don’t let your first time discourage you. You’re still human and humans are far from perfect creatures. We don’t get things on the first try, you have to practice at it to get good at something. My first time shooting a gun wasn’t impressive either. I was a lot younger at the time but I ended up stealing my father’s pistol and needless to say I didn’t look like any Richie Grimms.”

   “Rick Grimes.” Ash corrected

   “Well whatever. Dad was pissed at me after that but he did teach me how to shoot. Being a hunter I guess I was bound to learn it eventually. The first thing you have to remember is your stance. It wasn’t too bad before but when you tried to shoot you tried too much to look cool while shooting a gun. You won’t look cool shooting a gun until you learn and practice more. For now, just try to focus on getting one target. You had your stance at the beginning, when you tried to shoot but lost it and that’s why you took the recoil that hard. You’ll get used to it eventually and you won’t need to worry so much about it in the future.” He came closer behind her. His touch made her go stiff. Dean placed his hands on her waist, moving her body to face the stumps again. Her feet were planted back in their position of shoulder length apart, into the ground. Dean wrapped his large, muscular arms around a smaller girl, lifting up the gun to eye level. His hands didn’t move, this shouldn’t have...worried her so much as it was now. Ash was hardly focusing on the cans but instead watched his arms holding her. His hands placed perfectly on top of her fragile ones, holding the gun in place. Both their fingers on the trigger, ready to fire at a single flinch. Their bodies were pushed close together, she could feel his chest rise and fall slowly and most chilling of all was the soft, warm breaths near her ear. “Bend your knees some more and relax.” Dean talked in a whisper, sending the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up, she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Relaxing was easier said than done, how was he suppose to expect her to relax while he was so close to her. Closer than any man had ever been with Ash. “Focus on the target, take your time to make sure the gun is aimed properly. You have five more shots, you can’t waste any of them.” Dean said again and another flurry of shiver ran down her spine. Focus. Relax. Ash aimed the gun, waiting thirty seconds until she thought that the gun was properly aimed so that the can was right in the line of fire. She pulled the trigger and the recoil sent her back some more but Dean was able to hold her up from falling again.

Surprising for Ash, when Dean pulled away she was a little..sad. She wished for a few more minutes with the protective man standing behind her, teaching her how to shoot. Ash didn’t even notice nor did she care much about the results of the bullet fired. The can had been knocked off the stump, the bullet grazed the side of it, enough to just make a dent. “Not too bad, now try it yourself.”

   “Dean, where is your dad?” Dean was taken back a bit by the question, but he didn’t hide the answer from her.

   “Dead.” She had been getting used to humans, their culture and their emotions. Dean didn’t care to show those off much but the topic of family struck a cord she could tell. However her curiosity, likewise, got to her.

    “I’m sorry.” Again she said but couldn’t agree with the off choice of words. Although she didn’t know many other ways to express sorrow for someone’s loss. “How did he die?”

   “He killed himself for me. I was on the verge of dying but dad ended up saving me by killing himself. He wasn’t necessarily the best dad in the world but...well he’s the only one we’ve got unless you count a family friend of ours, Bobby. The man practically raised Sammy and I but he...he’s gone too.” Ash nodded as though she understood.

   “I wouldn’t know how it is like to have a family. In most other animals the concept of family is just the people who you share genes with. In most animal families the mother cares for her young for a bit and then they leave. They don’t have emotional attachment to the ones they love. However humans take more effort to raise. I guess that is why both parents stick around, it takes a long time for the child to leave the nest and by then the child has emotional attachment to its parents. Quite an odd world we live in. Nonetheless, I don’t have a family unless you could the angels, Cas and God. However it’s not much of a family, really. Quite dysfunctional. Family dinners always end in someone starting an apocalypse of our father doesn’t care to show his face much anymore. It’s a dysfunctional family. I remember...Castiel’s vessel family, though. Jimmy Novak was his name? He had a wife and a daughter. Castiel hadn’t ever had a real family until he met you two. He considers you his family for sure, loves both of you dearly. He’s taken a great liking to earth and the hunters he has met here as well.”

 “You remember those memories you share with Cas?” Dean asked

 “Yes. It’s...weird. I have the odd memories and lately I have been remembering more. Just today I remembered being in a diner. It was you, Castiel and Sam. It’s not a very important memory but I remember you guys all joking back and forth and it was quite entertaining. And then the waitress came with some pie and your eyes lit up.” Ash smiled at the memory, Sam’s hair looked much different back then and Dean seemed considerably younger. He’s aged well in the years Castiel has known him. His face had mature into a admittedly attractive man, the typical, protective, ideal partner. Dean laughed along with the memory and nodded.

   “Yeah, well I do like my pie.”

   “I’ve remembered some other events like bringing you back from hell and I remember you and Castiel meeting for the first time. I can’t imagine that hell is a memory you would care to remember, though.”

   “Yeah...hell wasn’t exactly a trip to Disneyland.”

   “I’m not sure where this Disney Land is…” Dean laughed although Ash wasn’t sure why, he didn’t give her an answer. Humans emotions were a pain in the ass. She felt as though she were in the teenage stage of a human life where hormones were bouncing all over the place. She was acting in the heat of the moment, looking back at him she could feel something spark up in her. The glow of his green eyes and that lovely smile that was sometime rare to see...merely inches away from each other. Without thinking, she had leaned in forward and kissed him.

It took Dean by obvious surprise but...not in a bad way. It took a second to figure out what was going on, which was weird for Dean to experience the suddenness of being taken back by a kiss of all things but...well it was Ash after all. The feel of her slightly chapped lips on his own began to feel comfortably familiar. His hand gently stroked down her stiff body, pulling her closer to his own and feeling her begin to relax as his hands slid around her waist. The sound of the gently wind moved the leaves of the trees in the back as if they were cheering him on. Within no time it was just...bliss, as if he were having his first kiss all over again. Dean cupped her face to bring in the kiss deeper but he felt her body rip away from him. “I-I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me. That shouldn’t have happened.” Ash stammered, taking some steps back.

Dean took a second to reply, the flurry of emotions hindered his ability to talk while his mind got it sort out. “Maybe we should just...head back. I can’t be away from Castiel for too long.” He didn’t disagree although he wanted to. Ash wasn’t a normal girl, if you could consider her one at all. She was a grace afterall. If it were anyone else he wouldn’t have hesitated to take her back into the impala and teach her a few things about the beauties of sex, but he didn’t. The two, in a awkward silence, walked back to the impala and drove back to the bunker without muttering a word.

 

__________________________________________

 

The music in the bar was more of a mix between death metal and Mongolian throat singing. It had that deadly, harsh, low beat in the background meanwhile the singer (for lack of a better word) mumbled the ‘words’ until they were inaudible. It fit the theme of the bar. Unlike most bars, there were no young college kids in sight. The youngest people in the building had been a forty year old with stretched ears the size of Russia and a pet iguana sitting on his right shoulder. It was the type of bar that was only for rapists, murderers, violent gangs, and robbers who all took their spots at pool tables and at the bar. There was only one group that looked out of place, a man sat to the back of the bar. He was skinny and wore a black business suit with his light coloured hair combed back professionally. He bore no tattoos or piercings. He seemed like the type of man who went to church every Sunday and provided a large sum of money to his wife each month. An American hero. Everyone around him varied between an old woman missing an eye to a geeky looking nerd who probably still lived in his mother’s basement. There were about twenty average Joe people sitting around the bar and everyone else watched them hungrily.

   “Michael.” The doors to the bar opened as Nuriel pushed passed a group of female wrestlers (or something to that effect) and hurried to where Michael sat.

   “Nuriel, I hope you’ve brought more grace.” The man questioned, the evil smirk he wore seemed more maniacal when it was on the face of a man who worked the 9-5. Michael eyed the boy, hardly the most impressive vessel he could have chosen but more importantly the archangel noticed the cuffs.

   Nuriel shook his head “No, I have something better.” Michael’s posture straightened some more, resting his arm and chin on the bar and paid close attention to the little boy like angel. “I’ve found the grace, the one that will be able to suit you for eons.” Nuriel stood proud, basking in the glory as the angels around him talked amongst each other.

   “Where is it?”

   “Castiel.” Michael almost flinched at the name as it brought too many bad memories. “He has lost his grace again but it’s different this time. The grace has been turned into a human, a girl who goes by the name Ash or something stupid like that.”

   “A human? Is that even possible?”

   “Apparently it must be. I’ve heard of angels graces turning into smaller things before but a human...well it proves how mighty this grace must be. She runs on pure grace, she has no soul.” Michael nodded, pleased but even more than that he was intrigued. A human grace seemed impossible but it was just the thing he needed in order to survive.

   “Well do you know where this grace is?” He demanded

   “Well...she is...with the Winchesters. I’ve tried to capture her before but the damn hunters just don’t know when to not get involved in other people’s problems. I...I’m sorry I wasn’t able to capture her but I do have a plan if I am given a little time...” Michael looked down to the unusual set of cuffs.

   “And those?” he asked

   “Well they uh...I was out numbered Michael…” Michael just rolled his eyes.

   “Where are the Winchesters, Nuriel?” Michael’s tone was flat and uncaring, he stared off towards the front door rather than at the boy.

   “They have taken refuge in the Men of Letters bunker in Lebadon, Kansas.” Michael cocked his head to the side and slowly stroked his chin.

   “I thank you greatly for coming to me with this information, Nuriel.” Nuriel smiled proudly. “However you’ve proven to have failed in capturing this grace and by now the Winchesters know you’re coming for them and for that I simply cannot let you continue your investigation. I need an angel on this case who I know will get the job done and not mess it up.”

   “Michael I-” Before he could finish Michael stabbed the boy through the chest with the angel blade. A sudden blast of light broke all the windows and the large mirror behind the bar and the angel came tumbling to the ground. All the other regular people in the bar watched with their jaws dropped, probably the most feared men in America yet they were all stunned and clueless what to do. Michael, with the other angels around him, stood up and in a blink they were gone.


	13. I'm Not in Love

It was like a virus which spread through the bunker. It started in the impala when Ash and Dean silently hopped inside. Dean started the car without saying another word and Ash turned her attention out the window without daring to look any other direction, especially towards the larger man sitting beside her. Dean was the same, one hand gripping the wheel until his knuckles began to turn white, the music was playing softly in the back and his green eyes were glued on the road ahead. It was like an itch that he couldn’t get, he needed to look beside him to see Ash. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, she was aimlessly staring out the window probably wishing she was anywhere else but in the impala with him. However there was that one shimmer of hope that perhaps she would start up a conversation, smile at him,  _ look  _ at him. Anything to make this awkwardness go away. At least with yelling you got an idea how the other person thought. There would be a lot of noise opposed to no noise at all. This silence was deadly and could torture someone more than any blade or punch to the gut could do. 

When the impala was parked in the bunker the virus spread throughout as the grace and the hunter exited and quickly parted ways, tailing along the string of silence along with them. Cas and Sam could feel it, it hit anyone like a ton of bricks. The two exchanged confused glances and then turned their gazes to Ash, who high tailed it up to her room. Dean didn’t look at either of them. 

He didn’t regret the kiss, as stupid as it sounded. The silence in the room you could cut with the knife and the embarrassment was insane however if given the chance to redo it all he would have done the same thing. 

   “Uh...hey?” Sam asked as Ash was already zooming up the stairs and down the hall. No one talked until they heard the thud of her bedroom door close. “What’s up?” 

   “Nothing.” There were some moments where Dean Winchester was the best liar known to man. And then there were moments like these, Dean let out a very quick and husky ‘nothing’ as if to threaten off anyone who came close to poking the bear. Dean turned back to head up the stairs but Sam spoke up again. 

   “How’s Ash?” 

   “What?” Dean’s head shot up like a deer in headlights, pausing for a moment before nodding and replying. “Oh, with the shooting...yeah she’s alright. She needs to get used to the feel of the gun, knockback keeps catching her by surprise but with a little practice she’ll be good enough to take out sometimes.” 

   “That’s good.” Sam nodded “Well whatever Ash did Cas seems to be fine.” Dean looked over to Castiel, he stood up straight with his dress shirt tucked into his black dress pants and tanned trench coat that looked fresh from the dry cleaners. If only he could just stay this way, if only that small speck of grace could cure the angel. “Cas seemed fine when you two went out today and the sooner we get Ash trained enough to hunting the better. Maybe tomorrow you and Ash can go out ag--” 

   “No” Dean budded in quickly, too quickly to be subtle. Sam furrowed his brow and chocked his head to the side. 

   “What happened out there, Dean?” he couldn’t stop himself from prying despite knowing the answer.  _ ‘Nothing happened out there.’  _ his brother would say, once again in the quick, defensive tone that Dean took on whenever he was lying about something more personal than being just an FBI agent. 

   “Nothing happened, Sam.” Typical.

   “Okay.” Sam said calmly, backing off before Dean exploded. “I’ve been looking up some cases around here, figured that we can focus on something while researching about Ash. If we focused on her case we’re all going to go insane in here…”

   “We should just focus on trying to save Ash. She uh...made a deal with me last night. When I left after she gave a bit of her soul to Castiel. Ash offered me a deal. We have a week to find out how to save her, if we don’t then she’ll kill herself for Castiel. I’m not going on any other case until we figure out one damn way to save her.”

   “Really Dean?” Sam let out “You made a bet with her life? Do you really think we’re able to find some miracle way to save her in a week?”

   “I know, I know it was stupid but Ash is stubborn. It was either that or she would do it right there. We need as much time as we can get. We can figure it out in a week. I’m sure we can if we just focus on that and nothing else.” 

   “Dean, I’ve checked everything. I honestly don’t think there is much that we can do about it.” Dean shook his head, ignoring the given fact violently. 

   “So what? You’re just going to let her  _ die _ ?” 

   “It’s her job to look after Cas. She’s not suppose to be human in the first place and she knows that too. I think we should just let her do what she thinks is best.”

   “There is always another way Sam. Always. I’m not going to stop looking for a way to save her. We were somehow able to save the world on countless occasions. We’ve died and come back too many times for me to count. Our lives are practically impossible and there was no guild book telling up step by step ways to figure each thing out. We had to find out how to do it on our own. Nothing is ever just handed to us! We’ve saved our asses a ton of times, we can do the same for Ash. I’m not going to let her die.” Sam looked to Castiel who just shrugged, it was late and they were all tired. Neither of them cared to argue with Dean over a topic that they both agreed with. 

   “There’s a witch in town. Should be an easy kill. We’ve finished doing all the research work for Ash right now. Cas and I have been researching the witch tonight, all we need to do is go out and kill it before it kills anyone else.” The brothers stared intensely back at each other as if waiting for each other to give in and agree. Dean, for once, gave in with a low mumble which sounded almost like a ‘yeah’. Sam nodded quickly before his brother could argue anything more. 

   “I’m going to bed.”

________________________________

 

Sleep has never been so impossible for the grace. Ash limped up to bed, tired beyond belief and determined to fall on her bed and go to sleep the moment her head hits the pillow. The blonde tried to do just that but found out that she couldn’t quite get comfy. So she got up and had a shower. Ash spent a good half hour soaking up every bit of hot water the bunker had to offer. She repeated the same actions she took earlier, she got dressed and fell into bed, determined to go to sleep. She twisted and moved and rolled over but Ash just couldn’t grasp the ability of a good night's sleep. All that was going through her mind was the kiss. It was hard to take her mind off of it, she’s tried the simple mind exercises like counting sheep however she reached one hundred and fifty two and she is still as lively as ever. She tried focusing on a show she was watching and more importantly about how the season would end. A guy named the Governor was a pain in the ass and she was thinking of all the ways he could die by the end of the season hopefully without killing any of the main character (that she liked, there were a couple characters she was willing to offer up). And yet  _ still  _ she was thinking back to that damn kiss. In the end, the topic was inevitable. 

The kiss wasn’t something you could easily put into words, Ash watched a total of two romance movies in her lifetime.  _ Somewhere in Time  _ and  _ Titanic _ . Ash would never say that they were her ‘cup of tea’ she much rather be drawn into a movie with blood and gore than those cheesy ‘I love you’s’. However those two movies were certainly....memorable. The first kisses in those movies seemed like the moment that everyone has ever been waiting for. Fireworks would appear in the distance as they hug each other closer, only focused on one another and the intimate moment they share. The couple would embrace themselves, trying to get as close as they could possibly get. The moment was bliss...and neither of them would pull away and insist it was a bad idea. It was cliche to think of a first kiss that way, after all, what about pressing your lips on someone else’s sounds at all satisfying? How could such a random, seemingly unimportant act become the be all and end all to relationships? Ash kissed Castiel and fireworks did not appear in the distance, church bells rang silent and she felt no different aside from a little winded since she had given him a bit of her grace. With Dean it felt nice….really nice. For the first time she understood the importance of a kiss, it may not make sense logically however what she felt was real. Her heart raced to what seemed like a thousand beats per minute. Everything around them disappeared so it appeared like they were the only two in the whole world. Nothing was important at that moment besides that kiss. The visions of beautiful colours flying around the sky and music beginning to chant them on came when he kissed  _ back.  _ Dean kissed her  _ back _ . Ash would like to think that it was sincere not just...because he didn’t want to make her feel bad or anything. It felt like he meant it. 

So why did she pull away from the kiss? Sitting in her room now it appeared more than ever that she enjoyed the kiss, it was intoxicating and addicting like a drug she couldn’t get enough of and it took all of her effort not to walk right into Dean’s room and kiss him again. She wanted more yet she was the one who pulled away. 

   “It’s not meant to be…” Ash muttered to herself. She sat up in her bed, bringing her knees close to her chest and hugged them. “I am a grace, he is a hunter. I shouldn’t even be here right now. If it weren’t for me, Castiel would be healthy, I shouldn’t  _ be  _ here.” she insisted and shook her head. If Dean and Sam did figure out a spell to put Castiel’s grace back into Castiel it would have to have some strings attached. Maybe her vessel would still be alive, but certainly not herself. Not Ash.

   “ _ Castiel’s grace _ ” The sound was muffled and almost muted, at first Ash didn’t even hear it until the words were repeated again. “ _ Castiel’s grace.”  _ It said in a stricter voice. Ash perked her head up and looked around the room. Everything was still in place. She got up and peeked out the door and down the hall where she was greeted by darkness besides a lonely lamp sitting at the end of the hallway being the only source of illumination.  _ “Grace! Speak now.”  _ The masculine voice demanded now, almost screamed. It wasn’t coming from in the bunker...but in her head. 

   “Who are you?” Ash asked allowed 

   “ _ That is not important right now, I am speaking to you on a frequency only angels can hear...and apparently you can as well _ .” 

   “Angel radio…” Ash answered allowed to herself in a soft voice. 

   “ _ You can call it what you want it does not matter. I have little time to talk to you on here without the others hearing in.” _

__ “I don’t care for what you say, might as well leave now.” Ash sat back down on her bed and eyed the door, waiting for the moment where she could rush out and go tell Dean, Sam and Castiel. However curiosity killed the cat and Ash couldn’t help but be interested in what this angel had to say.

   “ _ I’ve heard about your scenario. You are Castiel’s grace which was somehow transformed into a human. It’s astonishing and I know many angels want their hands on you, and rightfully so since it’s evident you must be powerful...a full functioning human created by a single grace, able to still use some angel powers is…” _

__ “Yes, astonishing. Carry on already, I thought you said you said you were limited on time.” the angel paused for a moment before answering. 

   “ _ Right, I apologise. Nonetheless, I know Castiel, I guess you could say I am a friend of his. I want to help you, grace.”  _ Ash furrowed her brow, she couldn’t pick out who it was. It was masculine and husky yet with a hint of character in the monotone voice. It felt like an angel, one who has been on earth before as showed by the small hints of personality, for instance Ash could tell that the angel was professional by the way he spoke, just like any angel straight out of heaven would speak. However this angel’s pitch differed between words. Like a human some of his words felt more fluent opposed to the same old monotone tone. This angel has been on earth before, just enough time to begin to pick up a hint of a human accent. “ _ I know you’ve gotten used to the feel of a human life, I understand how thrilling it can be and you probably don’t want to go back to being Castiel’s grace. However I know that you know it’s for everyone’s best interest that you do go back. You are a grace, afterall. At the end of the day it does not matter how powerful you are on your own, you belong to an angel.”  _ Was it just her imagining things or...was the room beginning to move a little? Each moment longer on the angel radio and the dizzier she got. A headache began to start up, she could hear her pulse thumping in her head in a loud, heavy rhythm as if it were trying to break free. She placed a hand on her forehead but didn’t try to break away from the communication just yet. “ _ Although being human...well you’ve barely discovered a fraction of what it’s like being human, grace. I understand your hesitance to go back but you need to save Castiel. What I came to tell you today is that I have a solution.” _

__ “That is impossible, there is no way for me to stay human yet give myself back to my angel.”

   “ _ But do you know for sure?”  _ Ash didn’t reply. “ _ I found a way for you to stay on earth as a human, just the way you are but also give your grace back to Castiel. However it’s quite complicated and something I rather not discuss where everyone else can hear. I believe you are in Lebanon, Kansas, correct? There is a dinner a little ways into town, should be a twenty minute walk. It’s called Debbie’s Diner off of Forks road and Shooter Boulevard. It’s right by a mechanic, you won’t miss it. Meet me there now.”  _ Ash looked back to the door, still with her hand on her forehead. She heard the click of a bedroom door close, probably Sam’s who was now the last one to head to bed for that night. They wouldn’t understand if she told them, after all, angels have tried to kill her before. Dean and Sam are no where close to figuring out a way to save her and if this angel really does know a way to save her...shouldn’t she try? 

   “Okay.” Ash said and the connection was gone. She felt like a weight was lift off her shoulders and the throbbing pain in her head ceased. She sat on the bed until she was certain she didn’t feel dizzy. 

She figured sneaking out would be really hard in a bunker owned by hunters who probably had thousands of people and creatures who wanted them dead. She prepared herself for traps,symbols, alarms. To conserve power of her own she didn’t poof out and decided to play spy instead. Ash left her room slowly and tip toed down the hall like a child on Christmas wanting to spot Santa putting presents under the tree. Going down the hall and past the boys’ room wasn’t much of a problem until she got to the stairs. Each step made an amplified sound of metal on metal. She took one step and froze, quickly turning around to see if Dean, Sam or Cas were coming. She waited for a good thirty seconds and upon hearing and seeing nothing, she continued. The next step was the same process, take a step and the sound of creaking metal would echo through the silent bunker. She would wait and then when the cost was clear, continue. There were no alarms or traps. She took that as a sign for the big man himself and made a B line for the large doors that lead back out into the world. Thankfully it wasn’t raining. The sky was clouded over with thick grey clouds that covered the semicircle moon. She heard and saw no cars, leaving her to walk down the dirt road and into town. 

It took exactly twenty five minutes to get to the diner which was just about impossible to miss. It was the first sign of humanity between the bunker and the town. The diner was small with glass windows peering inside, it was clouded over a bit but you could clearly see the shapes of a few people inside including waitresses which walked around serving food to their customers at midnight. It was breaking down as shown  from the missing shingles on the roof and rusted metal along the turquoise, 60’s style diner panels. There was a huge, neon pink sign which projected the name Debbie’s Diner to anyone passing. It was bright enough to see from space however a couple of the letters were burnt out, it was now Ebbie’s Ner. Ash walked in anyways, there were four customers seated around the diner, two in booths by the front, one woman with bright red curly hair sitting at the bar with a cup of tea and reading over a beat up looking book and an elderly man sitting in the middle of the diner playing chess against himself. 

Ash slowly walked inside, unsure of where or who the angel she talked to was. She was about to take her seat at a booth when she heard someone call her name. 

   “Ash?” said the voice of a woman, probably not the angel she talked to on the radio. It was a neutering voice, older and ever so familiar. She turned around, a woman had just walked through the door. She had thin glasses which were sitting on the edge of her nose, almost falling off until the silver haired woman pushed them up a bit. Her skin was wrinkled like a prune and she wore your stereotypical grandmother clothes which consisted of a knitted baby blue sweater with a picture of a cat playing with yarn on it and tanned, straight legged slacks. 

   “Marlene.” Ash answered quickly, a smile growing along the girl’s pale lips. 

   “Oh, I have been worried about you!” Marlene scolded her as the two met up in the middle of the bar. No one was paying much attention to the two of them. A couple waitresses looked but went back to their slack off work of looking at their phones and pouring a cup of coffee every now and then. “I woke up and you weren’t in your room. I called the police, you know. Said they didn’t know where you were. There was an ad in the papers and everything!”

   “Oh, i’m sorry I...I just had to leave and find who I was looking for. I never did get the chance to thank you for what you did, though. I can’t imagine many people who would be willing to take home someone in such a state I was in.” The grateful woman said, it was nice to see the elderly woman. Ash felt bad for leaving now, not that she really knew what she was doing when she had left. She kicked herself for not trying to call or send a letter just to say thanks and that she was alright. 

   “Well, it was my pleasure to do so. I see you’re alright now, then? You found who you were looking for? What did you call him...Castiel?”

   “I did.” Ash answered 

   “That’s great, dear. So glad that things worked out for you but...why are you here so late, if you don’t mind me asking?”

   “I’m just meeting someone. We were only able to meet up late.” It was sad how easily the lie came to Ash, Dean told her lying was a big part of being a hunter so she should be proud, right? Ash felt bad for lying to the woman however she doubted that Marlene would take the news that she was meeting an angel to discuss ways to keep herself alive while giving the grace that is her back to her real live angel very well. 

   “I see.” Ash couldn’t tell whether or not Marlene believed her, that same maternal smile was spread nicely on her lips and her kind eyes were locked onto Ash’s blue ones, but there was something about her tone that told Ash that Marlene wasn’t quite enjoying the vague answer Ash gave. “Well I should let you get back to that, then. I’m meeting someone here as well, actually.” The two said their goodbyes and went on their way. Ash sat down at the booth by the back so she was able to watch the door and everyone else in the diner including Marlene who went to sit with the curly hair red head at the counter. The woman was interesting with her fiery hair that emphasized her pale skin and bright eyes with superb eyeliner and bright red lipstick. She wore a long dress, not necessarily fancy but certainly more fancier than the diner they were in which consisted of a man in the corner sipping whiskey out of a beaten up flask dressed in clothes which smelled as though they hadn’t been washed in years. She had a youthful glow to her but she was stiller older, probably in her mid to late forties, certainly older than Ash...or Ash’s vessel at least. Ash was just out of earshot to listen to their conversation that they whispered back and forth to each other. Ash sat in that booth for what seemed like hours but in reality had to be about a half hour. No one caught her eye, no one entered or left the building. 

   “Can I get you something to eat?” A waitressed asked asked Ash, she was quite older and had a distinct frown line. She had on blue eyeshadow and red lipstick that showed up a lot brighter than expected on her dark skin.

   “No, i’m good for now.” The waitress didn’t move. She gathered herself for a moment, seemingly trying to hold back a fist full of sass and anger at the younger woman who returned to staring aimlessly out the window. 

   “If you aren’t gonna to order anything then I am gonna to ask you to leave.” she insisted in a deep, threatening voice. Ash looked to the older woman again, down at herself and felt inside the pockets of her jeans. There was nothing inside. 

   “I’m sorry I am just waiting for someone, they should have been here a while ago…”

   “I don’t quite care, ma'am. I run a business here and I ain’t gonna make any money if I just let freeloaders like yourself sit in my diner and not buy anything. If you ain’t gonna get somethin’ then you’re gonna to have to leave.” Ash looked over the waitresses, dressed in that cliche 60’s waitress get up. Hers was way too short and showed the flab hanging from her legs. The waitress had a name tag on her shirt that said ‘Debbie’.

   “I don’t have any money. I’m just waiting…” but Debbie wasn’t having it. 

   “I’m going to ask you to leave.”

   “But…”

   “If you don’t leave i’m gonna call the cops and press charges!” She insisted again, now it gained the attention of the people in the bar. Ash looked around and finally out the window for one last time but no one was there. She sighed and quietly got up from the booth and left. The rest of the night she stood out by a telephone pole awaiting the angel. It had been two hours since she left, it became a struggle to keep her eyelids from closing. At exactly two in the morning she decided to give up and walk towards the bunker again. She barely got in a couple steps before she felt someone push her against the brick wall. Her head hit the brick with a loud thud, barley drawing blood. Her vision was blurry as she looked at the mystery figure in front of her. It was a man but that was all she could take from the situation.

   “You’re going to do just as I say and no one has to get hurt.” the man had a matching husky yet characteristic voice to the one on angel radio. Her vision slowly began to return but the pain in her head still beat on. The man was Korean and significantly taller than the woman. He had jet black hair and puffy eyebrows that almost formed a unibrow. He wasn’t impressively muscular but he had a bit of strength to his meat suit which probably helped with keeping Ash pressed against the wall, unable to move. Tattoos ran up those semi muscular arms, Ash could make out a few quotes she didn’t care to read, a snake, a heart with barbed wire across it and a skull and crossbones to name a few. “I have someone who wants to meet you, and it’s about time. He is very eager.” 

   “What do you want from me?” Ash hissed, feeling the blade draw a thin pool of blood. The wound burned and stung for a second before it disappeared into a paper cut like pain. 

   “You may be powerful, but you aren’t very smart are you? We wants your grace.  _ He  _ wants your grace.”

   “Who is he? What does he want of my grace? You keep saying i’m powerful but what do you want to use my...my power for?” Ash asked, each second of talking was more pain but she fought through the burning. 

   “All in good time.” the unknown angel dismissed

   “Fuck you.” the angel didn’t even notice the swear, he grabbed her away from the wall and Ash quickly used the time to do just as she did to Dean, kick him in the place where it hurts the most. The pain, even for an angel, hurt and even if it didn’t it was at least distracting enough. Ash gasped at the deeper cut along her jawline, pouring blood and she tried to get away. Not fatal just yet.

   “Oh you fucking little…” He stopped. His eyes widened as he was taken by surprise, slowly dark blood began to trick down his mouth. The man behind the angel pushed him to the ground and stepped back in enough time that they were all engulfed by a bright white light. Once the light was gone the angel was left scattered on the ground with the remains of angel wings burned onto the pavement. Unsurprisingly, Dean Winchester stood there with a bloody blade in hand.


	14. Black Magic Woman

She was in deep shit. It was the look on his face that said everything, there were no need for words. It was that disappointed look your parents give you when you were out all night drinking. Or in this case, snuck out in the middle of the night to meet up with a murderous, psychotic angel. It was a mixture between disappointed and angry in his dark apple green eyes, Ash wasn’t sure which emotion was worse. Dean seemed unphased by the body lying limp at his feet and ignored the fact that anyone could come out of the diner and look around the back to see a murder. Deans green eyes were only focused on Ash at this point as if he were holding back everything he had to not stab her with the bloody knife in his hands.

   “What were you _thinking_!?” He yelled, Ash looked around quickly, thankfully no one heard them.

   “Shh, people could…”

   “Hear me? I don’t really give a shit if anyone hears me right now.” Dean interrupted “What the fucking hell did you _think_ would happen, Ash? You think you could make a friend with a fucking angel and everything would be sunshines and rainbows?”

   “What are you doing here, how did you find me?” Ash demanded, avoiding the questions he asked before. She tried to be confident but her voice shook a little and her hands still a little shaky from the fight with the angel. She didn’t want to look as though she were afraid of Dean even though she was, not matter how hard she tried nothing could hide the submissive glare in her bright eyes. She wasn’t worried he would literally lash out at her and stab her with the bloody knife or strangle her to death. He wouldn’t be able to do either of those things, she may be somewhat weak for being part human but she was still a grace and if need be she could find a way to fight him off. She was scared of what he thought of her. It scared her to death what he was thinking right now, the anger in his eyes, the tight grip he had on the blade...it was odd that after everything that happened she was more worried about what he _thought_ of her. Thoughts shouldn’t matter, they were humans for Christ sake. It took them years to figure out the world was round, these unintellegent creatures shouldn’t matter to her. However she found herself wondering these questions more and more, not just with Dean but with Cas and Sam as well. _What do they think of me? Do they like me? Am I just a dead weight they can’t wait to get rid of?_

“I drove here, you think you were stealthy trying to sneak out of the bunker? You kept murmuring things to herself about some diner. This is the closest one to the bunker. You’re lucky I did follow you. Who knows what that angel would do with you! You know how angels are like, Ash! You can’t trust any of them! What did you possibly think would happen coming here and meeting him?!”

   “I can handle myself, Dean!” Ash through her hands up in the air out of anger and shook her head.

   “You could have?” Echoed Dean with a sarcastic laugh. “That’s not how it looked like from where I was standing.” Ash rolled her eyes.

   “You have no clue how the hell to save me, you can’t deny it. Sam and Castiel have just about given up and if it weren’t for you everything would have been fixed already, Castiel would have been back in his vessel. It’s only been a couple days but i’m telling you that you cannot find a solution by the end of the week. When the angel contacted me he said he had a solution, he told me he was Castiel’s friend. I knew I couldn’t trust him but at this point we don’t have many other choices and if there was even a chance that he had a solution I wanted to do it. You can’t tell me there were times where you’ve taken a huge leap of faith and it’s ended badly.” Dean’s eyes strayed from Ash’s being the first one to break their competitive stare off. He looked down to the body instead.

   “Help me get this thing into the car.” Without any complaints Ash helped grabbed the dead body and bring it around to the impala which hid around the back of the diner, out of view of most people who decided to get a late night coffee. Ash got into the passenger’s seat and Dean started up the car, playing music to fill in the silence. Neither of them attempted to strike up a conversation.

In six days she would be dead just like the body in the trunk of the car. She lost hope of saving herself a long time ago. Dead in six days and there were so many things she hadn’t experienced. Christmas, Halloween, getting a tattoo, watching a hockey game in person, going ice skating...it was easier to write a list of all the things she has done opposed to hasn’t done. At least she did cross have her first kiss of her list. Ash looked away from the window and the passing buildings and trees along the sides of the road and caught a small glance at Dean. The man sat like a statue against the back of the leather chair, one hand on the steering while with the other on the clutch. He was there physically but lost in thought...was he thinking about her? About what happened? Probably regretting the kiss. Ash’s eyes diverted from the man and back onto the road ahead. Things were a lot easier when she was sipping tea in a 70’s style living room with an old woman.

Dean parked the car on the outskirts of town and in the middle of the forest where they hopefully wouldn’t be noticed by anyone. The impala just fit in the middle of the enclosure, Dean got out without telling her, slamming the door behind him and opening the trunk where the dead body lay. Ash sighed and followed a little bit after. Dean and Ash carried the body out and onto the forest floor.

   “So are uh...we going to burry the body?” Ash asked

   “Salt and burning it.” He answered, Ash opened her mouth to ask something else but Dean didn’t seem in the mood, she shut her mouth quickly and watched Dean take out a bottle and a pack of matches from the trunk.

    Dean glanced over to Ash who looked down to the body of the angel. “We salt and burn bodies to make sure that the ghost doesn’t come back. You should know this.”

   “Right…” Ash muttered under her breath. She shoved her hands into her pockets, keeping her eyes on the body probably the only thing that could keep her eyes off of Dean. Maybe he was harsh on her, afterall she was just trying to figure out a solution to their problem. And she was just...living...a week or so ago. She didn’t know better.

Dean covered the body in oil and took precautions so the fire wouldn’t spread. Dean grabbed a match and walked beside Ash, handing it to her.

   “Burn it.” Ash struck the match and let it go on the body which lit up like a Christmas tree.

   “Was there ever a chance to save the person?” Ash asked curious after several minutes of watching the body burn.

   “He would have died when I stabbed the angel.” Dean didn’t look to Ash when he answered. “Unless we found a way to trap the angel and exercise him we couldn’t have saved him.”

   “We didn’t even try to save him.” she said sadly.

   “We were..stressed for time. We can’t save everyone.”

   “We could have found a way to do it.” Ash said lowly. “However now this man is dead due to that angel. Who knew if he had a wife, girlfriend, children…” Dean nodded along with her, you wouldn’t hear an argument from him anytime soon.

    “Hunting is one big grey area, Ash. You can’t save everyone no matter how hard you try.” Ash turned to Dean, moving herself to face him. Dean looked at her as well, right in her blue eyes.

   “Exactly.”

 

____________________________

 

At this point most of the people in the little diner already cleared out, all except for the man sitting in the corner playing chess with himself. All waitresses gave up on giving exceptional service to the three customers and instead stood in the back gossiping and smoking something that smelled worse than the diner itself. They talked in hushed whispers, Marlene didn’t have the energy nor the need to listen in however if she had to she probably would have been able to make out the slightest of whispered words. The elderly woman instead sat at the counter and looked down to her white tea cup which was half empty and partially cold.

Ash was a strange one, however given her case it’s not such a surprise. She was at least impressed the girl knew how to speak proper English now. She no longer wore the baggy track pants and the oversized sweater she gave her. The clothes fit the woman and shaped her defined body. She used to look like that once upon a time, God how time flies and in fifty or so years Marlene finds herself sitting at an unknown bar with a red head, both sipping tea and barley talking. Marlene could assume that Ash found this Castiel who helped her out, got her some clothes, calmed her down and now Ash was back to normal...kind of. There was still that lingering factor about the blonde woman that seemed off. It was like walking over eggshells around her, Marlene wasn’t worried Ash would act out or get really mad...it was more like when you’re sitting in the room alone and you’re sure someone is in there with you. You can’t see or hear them but they’re there.

   “Marlene…” spoke up the redhead who still held the old book in her hands. The redhead was younger than Marlene whose hair faded to a snowy white and whose skin sagged worse than a 90’s teen’s pants. The woman's hair was curled to perfection and ran down her model like body and reach the middle of her back. She had on bright red lipstick, bringing out the fullness in her wide smile and the glow of her mysterious eyes. However none of the make up in the world could give you that ‘fountain of youth’ look that beauty companies campaigned on. She had slight crows feet around her eyes and the formation of dark bags under her eyes. When she spoke the woman spoke with a sense of formality, a purpose. It sounded formal but probably because of the Scottish accent she produced, thick and well pronounced. Each syllable she uttered sounded thick and angelic against the grace of her tongue.

   “Rowena, it’s nice to see you again.” Marlene said with a forced partial smile, she didn’t look the woman in the eyes.

   “Would you two like some more tea?” a waitress emerged from the back smelling of nothing but drugs and fatty foods. Her eyes bloodshot and droopy as she muttered each word.

   “No, we’re fine.” Rowena sent the woman back into the kitchen to finish smoking whatever the hell she was on. “Do you know that woman, Marlene?” Rowena turned to look at her for the first time since she sat down.

   “The waitress? No, not personally at least but I do believe her uncle is a member of my bingo team. Although he’s won about four times in the past two months so I think he has been cheating.” Rowena rolled her eye.

   “No, the blonde you were talking to before, the one who just left.”

   “Ash? Yes, just the other day I was driving home and she was walking at the side of the road dressed completely in the nude. I offered her a ride but she didn’t speak, didn’t even seem to comprehend what I was saying. I brought her back home where I got her name and she ended up talking about how she needed to see her...her angel…”

   “Castiel?” Rowena jumped in. Marlene bit her lip, contemplating the familiar name and then nodded slowly.

   “Yes, I believe that was his name.” She studied the redheads face. Her expression contorted between the ‘you’re an idiot’ phase to ‘God, if I only knew’. “I...didn’t think she was possibly talking about _him._ There was something wrong with her, Rowena. She was rambling nonsense.”

   “Because she’s not human!” Rowena’s voice raised, the woman looked around slowly. None of the waitress came out to see what was going on and the chess player was still in his own little world, cursing slightly to himself and muttering ‘ _Oh you’re good...you’re very good.’_ under his breath as he spun the board around and took another move. “Really are you that oblivious, Marlene?” Rowena sighed, running a hand over her forehead and took a second to think it through. “You ended up driving her to the Winchesters bunker and you never put together the possibility that maybe she has something to do with the Winchesters?”

   “I didn’t drive her to the bunker. She snuck out in the middle of the night.” Marlene quickly added as if it would make a difference. “And frankly I could care less about who or what she is. I told you already I was done with all this witchy stuff. I’ve given it up a long time ago. It’s mess like this that killed my husband and my daughter. If she had anything to do with magic I would have wanted her out of my house right away. I would have never picked her up in the first place.”

   “And if that were true you wouldn’t be meeting me here today.” Marlene fell silent, her eyes looked back to the white cup and the brown, still liquid inside. It reflected a mirror image of herself, an old woman once again. A sad, lonely soul whose only companion was a tempered cat cleverly named Garfield. “She is Castiel’s grace.” Rowena spoke quietly so only the two of them could hear again. Marlene lifted her eye, her brows furrowing and she turned to her companion.

   “No, that’s not possible. A grace can’t become human…”

   “You don’t think I know that?” Rowena countered “Don’t ask me why or how because I don’t know. However somehow Castiel’s grace became a human. Marlene, why did you accept my invitation to come here if you really gave up magic?”

   “I...was curious. I haven’t heard from you in years, not since the eighteenth century I believe.”

   “Yes, quite disappointed the vessel you’ve create for yourself I must say, why you let yourself grow old I will never understand.” Marlene now rolled her eyes, then continued.

   “When I quit I didn’t hear from you, I figured you let me have my time to be on my own whether or not you objected to it. You wouldn’t have contacted me unless it was necessary.”

   “And the reason I wanted to talk to you just walked out that door right now, love. She is powerful, imagine all the things we could be doing with a grace like that.” Rowena pushed to book on the bar between the two of them. She carefully pulled it open to the first page. You have to be delicate with a book like this. It’s pages were faded yellow and covered in a centuries worth of dust. The thick pages were hands made and the writings and drawings were hand written in a language which was not English.

   “And I assume you have some sort of spell for whatever you have in mind in need my help? Or are you just calling for a midnight chat because it is well past my bedtime and I haven’t taken my pills yet.” Yes again Rowena flashed the disapproving look.

   “Oh yes, I have a spell. I always do.”


	15. For the Benefit of Mr.Kite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In regards to the season 12 finale of Supernatural which made some dramatic changes to the show we want to clarify a bit where Beyond the Walls will be standing. Neither of us want to spoil anything for people who are behind and haven't seen the finale so Beyond the Walls will take place before the finale of Supernatural and all shit hit the fan. Thanks so much for reading!!

“You killed it?” Dean took a seat along the familiar wooden table and rolled up the sleeves of his red and black flannel. He held a beer in his hand and took a nice, well deserved swig of the alcoholic beverage and leaned his head back. He wasn’t in the mood for his brothers ranting, he could hear it in his voice which began to rise with each syllable.

Castiel had remained silent for the entire conversation, sitting across from Dean and looking alright but certainly not one hundred precent amazing. Dean wasn’t sure whether or not Castiel was paying attention to their conversation or if he was just lost in thought. Cas stared longingly to the small lamp on the table as though it were the most interesting thing on the planet. It worried him a bit, but Dean learned to ignore these sorts of things coming from Cas especially in the state he is in now.

   “Yeah, I killed it.” Dean answered as though it weren’t obvious. Ash wobbled into the room, holding an icepack on his head and took the seat beside Dean. If there was a bright side to this it was that Ash wasn’t hurt badly. Her head had a slight goose egg on the side which was red and visible to the boys when she moved the ice pack, her hands and knees were scratched but other than that the grace would live to see the next five days.

    “It was either kill it or get killed by it.” Ash answered Sam before he could reply ‘Why?!’ like Dean knew he would. “What else would you prefer we do with him?”

   “You could have brought the angel back, interrogated it a bit. We do still have another case about angels getting murdered and plus he may know something about how to get the grace out without killing you.”

   “I don’t think he knows much about me, Sam. I feel he was as clueless as we are about it.”

   “But he does know someone who wants you, someone who may know more about you and more importantly, how to save you.”

   “What good does arguing about it do for us?” Ash spoke up again with a slight roll of her bright eyes. “The angel is dead. We are not able to bring him back and we’re not able to go back in time to try to kidnap him instead. So we’re going to have to figure out another way to get information. I’m sure you two haven’t found any more information about how to save me?” Ash looked from Dean to Cas and finally to Sam. They all said nothing, they diverted their eyes as if to hide the shame they felt. Saving people, hunting things...wasn’t that supposed to be the family business? And yet they couldn’t save just one person from their heroic destiny. “So in the meantime, instead of sitting here going insane trying to think about a problem with no solution, why don’t we talk about that other case, the one with the angels dying. Have you found out anything about that, Sam?”

   “There was another murder recently in a town about three hours away. Another angel was killed in some back alley again. Wings were burned into the ground, the murder weapon was found and they’re going through DNA analysis now. I want to go there and try to get the results early and look at the body to see if there are any other clues. Hopefully they get the prints, at least we’ll then be able to pinpoint whose vessel this angel is possessing.” Ash nodded, agreeing with him.

   “Then you two should go.” Ash prompted

   “I should come as well.” Castiel spoke up for the first time. He lifted his stiff head to the two men in the room. “This case involves angels dying. Ash and I maybe able to help.”

   “Cas, you can’t come with us. I wish it was any other way but you’re not exactly…” Dean looked over at him noticing the pale skin again, the depressed expression and dark eyes. He didn’t finish his sentence knowing nothing he could say would make the situation any better. Not to mention Cas looked at him with such a puppy dog face, much like Sammy’s, which gave Dean the inability the say anything bad. “Just...you know you can’t come. Ash can’t either. Both of you are a lot safer here.”

   “I agree, Castiel.” Ash added “Although I would like to be apart of this case I think Sam and Dean are able to handle it better by themselves instead of worrying about us all the time. They’ve had more than enough experience with angels. They no longer need our help.” But Castiel wouldn’t quit, he shook his head and sat up in the chair.

   “My brothers and sisters are being killed and we may be able to help them. I don’t want to stay in the bunker anymore, I want to help you. I can be of assistance.” The other three just looked at each other with saddened expressions, as if they were watching a wounded animal. Ash couldn’t disagree with her angel. If he wanted to leave then she would have to abide by what he wanted, even if she didn’t agree.

   “Cas...you know that you can’t come…”

   “I’ll be with him.” Ash spoke up “I don’t like him going but more than that I don’t like him going alone…or at least being alone without his grace.”

    “Ash, you don’t have to watch over me…”

   “No, I do need to watch over you. You need me, Castiel, I am your grace and if you insist on going with Sam and Dean then I will go with you. You’ll die without me with you and besides, if you’re going as well I don’t want to stay in the bunker all by myself. I can protect you, I may not know how to use a lot of my powers but I know how to use some. Also the training Dean and I have done will help.” Ash turned to Sam and Dean now “I don’t like this anymore than you two do but at this point I am sick of fighting nor do I have any energy to fight right now. I’m tired and I will go to bed and tomorrow morning we’ll be on our way to this city to figure out what the hell is going on with the angels.”

   “Fine.” Dean finally said “We won’t stay long, get a motel for a night just to figure out what happened in that town. After we head straight back to the bunker.”

   “Deal.” Sam began to leave the room, Ash stood up to walk to her own room as well. It felt like her pulse was throbbing so loud that the boys could hear it too. At any moment she expected her veins to bulge out of her head like in some weird B horror movie. She felt like utter crap and the only way to cure that is to watch her favourite characters get eaten by zombies on her favourite show. She was on season five now and more than ever wanted to just get caught up. Bingeing always cured her headaches, she tended to get a lot of them now that some of her grace was in Castiel again.

   “And Ash…” Dean stopped her before she left, Sam also hesitated. “Do us all a favour and don’t wander off on your own.” Ash only smiled and innocently shrugged.

   “I can’t promise anything.” And the girl walked back to her room, Dean’s eyes watching her as she disappeared up the stairs. Dean clapped his hands together, waking everyone in the room up again. Castiel jumped and looked to Dean, once again with that confused glare.

   “We leave tomorrow then?” Dean asked his brother, ignoring the angel.

   “Yeah…” The man hesitated, looking towards the stairs. “Is something going on with you and Ash?”

   “What?” He laughed, whether or not it was real Sam had yet to decide. “No, nothing is going on between us. Dude, she’s Cas’ grace. That’s sort of weird.” But Sam’s curious expression didn’t fade. He didn’t look away from Dean, he stared him down trying to pinpoint whether or not he was lying. Dean wasn’t lying. Nothing was happening between him and Ash, thinking about anything of the sorts would be stupid. She was a grace, Castiel’s grace. It would be like fucking your best friends sister, it’s just not right.

   “Dean, if there is anything going on between you two, I advise you to stop it.” Castiel said strictly, his words were rough and raspy but his intent was clear. Dean, again, chuckled a bit as looked to the others as if he were waiting for the punchline. Sam was still interrogating him by his stare.

   “I’m not. I like hanging out with her but that’s about it.” Dean shook his head. Why didn’t they believe him?

   “She’s a grace, Dean…”

   “I know that. _Nothing is going on._ I don’t know how many God damn times I have to repeat this…” Dean rolled his eyes and quickly changed the subject. “Regarding Ash’s case we have absolute shit to say for it. None of us can come up with anything so I was thinking of trying to call someone who may have a better chance at figuring something else. Rowena or Crowley may have some sort of spell to deal with this or at least either of them may have more of an understanding than us about her.”

   “You really trust them?” Sam asked

   “No.” Dean scoffed “But right now we don’t have much else of a choice. I may not trust either of them fully, especially since Ash is Cas’ grace and all, but they’re probably our best bet. I trust them more than any other off the street angel or demon.” He didn’t need Sam’s confirmation on this, he intended to call either Crowley or Rowena whether or not he agreed. Dean just decided to warn him ahead of time. Dean couldn’t say he had the best relationship with either the king of hell or his mother. Over the years they’ve both tried to kill each other countless times until it finally came to rest when Dean was turned into a demon and he and Crowley became best friends. Dean shivered at the thought.

Sam shrugged, as did Cas. “Yeah, I guess you should call them then.” Sam agreed. Sam and Dean had tried to help the broken Castiel get up the stairs and to his room. The angel shot the brothers away the moment they showed sorrow in their eyes. Castiel got up on his own, he wasn’t too bad today. Every bit of his body hurt but that wasn’t weird anymore. It was a numbing pain now, one that he was used to and with more time he would soon deal with the pain and find ways to ignore it. Aspirin helped a lot. This could be a pain he could live with, right? If he just learned to deal with the pain maybe then Ash wouldn’t have to die for him? Maybe Dean would stop stressing out and Sam could take a break from heavy research. He dealt with it before, could he deal with it now? Dean and Sam have and would again kill themselves to save each other, Ash would do the same for him but now...now maybe it was his turn to do something for her? Putting up with this pain being the least he could do.

Castiel made it back to his room and shrugged off the brown trench coat, tossing it on the ground by his bed which was beginning to litter with spare changes of clothes. The ex-angel collapsed on the bed and stared up at the grey, pipe lined ceiling. She was a grace, she wasn’t suppose to be here, she shouldn’t be here now. Staying here, keeping her on earth...it could do bad things. Who knew the potential Ash could get to if she dared to turn the other way. She was a bomb waiting to explode. The moment she discovers the power she has as a pure grace with no angel holding her back would be the moment between life or death. Cas still had a commitment to protect her much like her commitment to protect him. Whatever path she chose, he prayed that he could keep this promise. It would be the first time he prayed for anything in a long, long time.

   “Rowena…” Cas could hear the muffled voice of his friend from down the hall. Dean paced lightly back and forth in the hall, passing Cas’ room for a second, stopping in front of the door and then turning back down the hall. “Yeah...what? No, I tried calling Crowley he didn’t pick up.” he answered the witch on the phone. Castiel could still hear him talking, even from in his room down the hall. “Do you know anything about angels grace?” There was a slight pause before Dean talked again. “Yeah, but more like...pure grace. Like a grace that has turned into a...human? Has that ever happened before? Have you dealt with anything like that?” Castiel could practically hear the woman’s high pitched laugh from over the phone. No, she didn’t know about any grace turning into a human. Castiel explain this much before to him. “I know it sounds absurd.” Dean grumbled “Rowena, we need your help…” he was cut off for a second. “Why does there always have to be some price for you. Fine...whatever. Before you do anything can you just meet up with me and talk? It’s about something serious, something you’ll be probably pulled into one way or another. You want to be ahead of the game, i’m offering you a chance...yeah...yeah Sam and I are heading out there tomorrow for a case...I can meet you there then? Yeah...okay.” Then there was silence. Castiel assumed Dean hung up the phone, he heard the water to the shower turn on and that was Cas’ cue to turn in for the night.

 

________________________________

 

She gasped for breath while her eyes shot open and were greeted with nighttime darkness. The bunker was quiet and still, she was the only one making noise it seemed...well besides Sam who was snoring down the hall slightly.

It felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest, the more she tried to breath the harder it became. Her eyes were adjusted to the darkness around her, enough for her to sit up and find the lamp on her side table and take a second to rub her hand down her sweaty face and through her wet hair. She didn’t even remember the dream she had the night before. Dreams were another new thing for Ash to experience. For the first couple nights sleep was only a void of darkness for a period of time until her body regained energy. Now she had dreams, some good and some bad...more bad than good if she was honest. They ranged from zombies chasing her, to the day out in the woods with Dean and she usually remembered each of them in the morning. The clock beside her bed read 1:25am, not exactly morning...so why was she up?

The elephant hasn’t moved from on her chest, cutting off the flow to her brain which began to pound against her skull, begging to be let free. She got up out of bed and staggered towards the bathroom, her hands and legs shaking on the way there. The wall was the only thing keeping her on her feet which seemed to not want to cooperate. The last time she felt this uncontrolled was when she first ‘woke up’ back in the forest on the storming night not too long ago. Her feet felt numb, her head was throbbing, walking seemed almost impossible. She grasped onto the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water in her face which didn’t help. In fact it made it worse. Ash was both shivering cold yet so hot. She couldn’t figure out if she needed to put on another sweater or sleep in just the bra she wore underneath. Ash looked up to herself in the mirror. The person staring back at her, however, didn’t share her long blonde hair, bright blue eyes and sensitive smile. She saw man instead. He was a thin man, tall with a squared face and thin lips which curved into a evil smile. His eyes seemed to stare into her soul, if only she had one. The man in the mirror slowly reached out to her, his hand moving past the mirror and grabbing onto her.

   “DEAN!” She screamed as loud as she could managed but all that came out was a raspy squeal. Her throat was on fire. Everything was on fire. Her brain, her eyes, her head, her legs, her arm, her throat...everything felt like it was a balloon and the tighter this man grabbed her the more she felt like she was going to pop. He only grabbed onto the top of her arm yet she wasn’t able to pull away. “D-” she tried again but didn’t get as much as half way into the word when she let out a desperate cough and collapsed onto the linoleum floor.

Dean burst through the door into her bedroom, it seemed like it was becoming a habit to save Ash in any situation. Her unmade bed stood bare with no one in it. The door to the bathroom attached onto the room was wide open and a blue light was being admitted out of it which lit up the dim room with a blue hue.

   “Ash?” he asked curiously, stepping into the bathroom. Ash laid sprawled out on the floor, not breathing , not moving and her body... _glowing_ blue. Dean leapt quickly down to her, checking her pulses quickly. “Ash!” he screamed at her as if that would wake her up. She was still alive but barely, her pulse beat slow and unsteadily. “Shit...shit...fuck...Ash! CAS! SAM! GET IN HERE!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, ready to do CPR when Ash’s body jolted but she didn’t open her eyes. Dean paused, hoping that she would wake up at any second. Ash body jolted again and then again until she was flopping like a fish out of water. Her body was out stretched across the bathroom floor seizuring and the best thing Dean could to right now was try to hold her down and keep her from hitting her head off of anything. He didn’t hear Sam and Cas coming into the room seconds after and demanding on knowing what was going on. Ash choked and coughed and gagged and covered up Sam and Cas’ panicked voices, at least in Dean’s mind which was watching Ash as she finished the seizure and lay still once again.

Everything was quiet, the slight beat of the girl’s pulse was still there but she wasn’t waking up.

   “Dean...what the hell happened?” Cas demanded but Dean shushed him just as Ash opened her eyes again and looked around the room. Her body was no longer that tinted blue colour, she was back to normal.

   “Ash! Ash, are you okay? What happened?” Dean asked her quickly, barely giving her time to think about what happened either.

  “What? Yes i’m okay.” She said, fixing her hair and quickly standing up. Ash turned back to the mirror. A blonde woman stared back at her again, her hair messed up and thrown all over the place like the worst case of bed head. A couple freckles littered her pale skin and even a couple flaws, bumps and cuts. She was unlike she was when she first woke up. When she first woke up she made note on her flawless skin and bright blonde hair. Now...now she was oddly more mundane. “Nothing happened.” Ash said in a low voice.

   “What do you mean nothing happened?” Sam laughed a bit as he talked, like he didn’t believe what she said. “We just saw you se-”

   “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nothing happened, I woke up to get a glass of water. That’s all that happened.” Castiel stepped forward, she could fool Sam and Dean all she wanted (even though she doubted she was fooling either of them) but Castiel was someone whom she couldn’t fool. Ash reached out her hand touching his cheek so a flurry of images flashed before his darkening eyes. He could see the man, so familiar yet he couldn’t place who he was. He watched this mysterious man reach forward to grab Ash and Cas could feel the plain she felt. He was seconds from collapsing himself when Ash had removed her hand.

   “Nothing happened…” Castiel agreed afterwards and turned back to Sam and Dean.

   “You’re not seriously pulling this bullshit. What just happened? Ash…” Dean looked to the girl. Maybe he didn’t think he had a puppy face, compared to Sam that was true, but Ash saw it in him. That begging look like he was a sick puppy on the road who she really wanted to help. It was vulnerable, maybe that’s why he didn’t show it too much. You can’t be vulnerable in this business, especially if you’re someone like Dean Winchester.

   “Nothing happened, Dean.” she said as sternly as she could in order to not cave in. He looked almost betrayed behind those green eyes but most of all he was angry.

   “If we intend on going to that town then we need to all get our sleep. We have a busy day.” Castiel began to lead everyone out of the room but Dean wasn’t ready to leave. Not without starring Ash down as if she were a bug. She knew he was trying to just get something out of her, let her feel the guilt of not telling them this important information. She wished she could. When Ash said and did nothing Dean angrily turned around and left the room with his brother following.

Castiel was the last to leave. She wasn’t sure whether or not to get a lecture from him or a couple words of encouragement. Her angel wasn’t very good at either of those things. He sighed, looking over Ash, and the left the room silently.


	16. Suffragette City

The motel was less than ideal. The Sunset Motel was an open concept health hazardous motel which stood two stories tall and wrapped around the parking lot unevenly. The roof was painted a chipping a turquoise colour meanwhile the building itself used to be white but now looked ugly and grey due to the chipping paint, scratched walls and lazy decorations scattered around the premises. It looked as though the motel was trying too hard yet not trying at all. The free wifi sign, morning breakfast and the flower beds out front made it obvious however nothing would change the fact that this motel was shady and only cheap asses, druggies or prostitutes would choose to come here. Maybe the motel wasn’t really that bad, if you ignored the broken window in the office and the flickering Bates Motel looking lights, the motel could be passable. What didn’t help was the another hotel across the street, standing tall and proud with it’s three and a half star rating and spa area. There was no wonder why there was only one car in the vacant parking lot of The Sunset Motel. The Winchester, the angel and the grace pulled into the motel the moment the black car came into town.

Dean had enough money for two rooms, Cas and Ash sharing one meanwhile the Winchester took the one next door. Ash had high hopes of this motel being a diamond among the rubble. Maybe it looked ugly on the outside but on the inside it could be like a mansion? A luxury hotel room with a jacuzzi and expensive paintings hanging on the wall...however she was disappointed more when the two of them opened up the door to room 12 and they were greeted with the horrid stench of stale milk and rotting food. There were two twin sized beds lazily pushed against the back wall that was painted to look like a bunch of flowers but instead turned into a messy backsplash of fading pinks, yellows, blues and purples. The rest of the walls almost matched the backsplash, pinkish wallpaper hung onto the walls for dear life. The tops of it already was beginning to peel. All colour schemes that owners were attempting to incorporate were lost when it came to the kitchen area of the room. There was an oven, one counter top and a brown fridge which probably used to be white. The yellow shag that was spread out along the rest of the room now morphed into a white and black diner pattern with cream coloured wallpaper that didn’t match. Among everything the motel forgot even the essentials needed to stay in the room. The blue sheets that were on their bed looked old and dirty, she didn’t dare sit down on the frail beds as well as the bathroom, which could only hold one person at a time, only came equipped with one towel that looked like it could barely fit a child let alone two adults.

    “I wish we stayed at the bunker.” Ash muttered, tossing a bag onto the closest bed to the door. The bed springs squeaked as response. 

   “You never really get used to these rooms.” the angel admitted “Most of the motels we stay at aren’t usually this bad, though. At least they don’t usually smell as though someone died.”

   “I wonder if Sam and Dean’s room is any better?” Castiel shrugged and placed his small bag of personal belongings on the other bed before opening the door and knocking on Sam and Deans door beside them. Sam was the one who opened up, allowing the two to pass into the room which look nearly identical to their own. The only differences here was that this room wasn’t a spring flower theme, or at least that’s what Ash thought their rooms theme was suppose to be. This room had a forest theme. The backsplash behind the boys’ beds was a wallpaper of an angled view over a forest of lush green pine trees. The rest of the walls were painted white, or what used to be white until people used the room and now the walls were stained with only God knows what. This room had similar shag as their own room however instead of yellows they had an off putting brown colour. Aside from that the room were almost identical. 

Castiel and Ash took a seat at the small table near the kitchen area of the room, the boys each sat on one of the noisy beds. 

    “Does your room smell like stale milk too?” Dean asked as he looked around the room as if to find the source of the smell. When he was unsuccessful he sat back down on his bed. “Looks like some crappier version of the Bates Motel.”

   “So...what’s our plan now?” Ash questioned quickly, not bothering to ask what the Bates Motel was.

   “I told Rowena I would meet her at a restaurant soon.” Dean looked down at his phone “Actually we should head out soon if we want to be on time.”

   “Who is Rowena? Someone who knows more about grace?” Ash doubted so.

   “Maybe. Rowena is a witch, the mother of Crowley, the ‘king of hell’ who we uh...work with sometimes.”

   “That doesn’t sound very confident, Dean. How do you know you can trust her if she is a witch? Especially if she is this Crowley guys mother...I mean, if he is the king of hell that’s a pretty big red flag isn’t it?” 

   Dean snickered a bit “I don’t know if I can trust her, however she has helped us in the past. She’s a selfish woman so if she knows something about you then she wants something in return and it must be pretty important if she called me to talk about it. Hopefully she knows something. At this point I think Rowena is our best bet.” And for her own sake she hoped so as well. 

   “I’ll be going with you.” she announced, Ash was ready to fight back when Dean said that she couldn’t come, but he didn’t say that. Instead the man nodded to her statement. 

   “Cas, you’ll have to come too then.”

   “I need to help Sam with this angel murderer.” Castiel responded “I’m sure I can be on my own for the while you two are talking with Rowena.”

   “No, you can go with them, Cas. I’m not leaving just yet. I want to do some more research on the case before I go in and ask for evidence and everything. You shouldn’t be away from Ash. We can leave when you guys get back.” Castiel nodded and as if on cue Ash, Dean and Cas all stood up to leave. 

   “We’ll be back in an hour or two, Sammy.” Sam nodded, grabbing his laptop as the three of them left the sour smelling room. 

The restaurant wasn’t too far away from The Sunset Motel and looked almost as crummy as that rundown dump complete with even the cheesy name. The restaurant was a old looking Chinese place called ‘Wok this Way’ which was located in a small building between a Walmart and a drug store. There were a total of five people in the dimly lit building, although on the bright side the moment you step inside the smell of food hits you like a ton of bricks and almost eliminates the smell of sour milk still stuck in their noses. Dean pointed out Rowena near the back of the restaurant sitting at a booth with someone else. He led the way towards the booth. 

   “Ah Dean, nice to see you’ve made it…”

   “Marlene?” Ash said quickly, Dean turned around and followed Ash’s gaze to the elderly lady sitting beside Rowena in the booth with a plate of noodles and rice in front of her. “What are you doing here?” she asked and looked to Rowena, clearly remembering the bright red hair from in the diner the night or two before. She assumed this woman was Rowena. 

Marlene still gave that motherly smile she always seemed to have as the woman looked to Ash warmly. 

   “Hello, dear.” She responded “Have a seat.”

   “You know her?” Dean questioned next. 

   “Yes, she helped me when I was first...born, for lack of a better word. She gave me tea.” Ash sat in the booth in front of them, Dean hesitantly got in beside her and Castiel grabbed a chair from the table closest to them and sat on the end. “Why are you here?”

   “To help you, love. I’m a witch, like Rowena here. We want to help you with your situation, I wasn’t aware of what you were when I first picked you up that night, I wish I did know, I could have helped you more.”

  “Yes well you can’t seem to take an obvious hint.” Rowena said with a roll of her bold eyes. “My name is Rowena.” she introduced but after that she went to look back at Dean as if he were the adult and Ash and Cas were merely the children yet to be ignored. It annoyed Ash but she didn’t say anything about it, she was still in marvel that Marlene was a witch all this time and she never even noticed. 

   “The situation you’re in is far more dangerous and detrimental than you may think. My guess is you’re just trying to find a way to save the grace while still giving Castiel his grace back?” she wasn’t wrong, they all nodded. “Saving her is nearly impossible on your own. You guys probably have no idea what in the world you’re going to do or what you’re getting yourselves into and at this rate Ash is only going to get worse. Her death, at this rate, will be slow and painful.” Ash bit her lip, was death really that painful? That slow? She didn’t want to show the fear but Dean could see her hands under the table clenching into tight, hard fists. He moved his hand so it was on top of hers. Ash looked over to him quickly, the two of them exchanging quick glances before Ash broke the gaze and looked back to Rowena and Marlene but she didn’t move her hand away from his. Her tight fist began to relax. 

   “So you’ve called us here to tell us that it’s all hopeless?” Dean grumbled 

   “I’ve called you here because you’re not looking at the bigger picture. You need me…” Marlene cleared her throat, Rowena rolled her eyes and restated. “Us...you need us. Castiel isn’t the only one who wants Ash. She is powerful, more powerful than she knows right now and there are people who want their hands on her.”

   “What sort of people?” Castiel asked, Rowena was silent for a second. 

   “We need to get the grace out of her, and although I would like to just do the simplest solution and kill her and put the grace back in the angel but I know you’re not very open to that idea. So we want to help you try to extract the grace from Ash. Frankly, you need witches on your side with the shit that’s coming your way not to mention you don’t know anything about how to help your grace here. Marlene and I have already began to form a plan…”

   “Get to it, Rowena. What do you want?” Rowena’s cheeky smile grew like the Grinch from cheek to cheek as she batted her eyes innocently. 

   “What makes you think I want anything in return?”

   “Come on Rowena, cut the crap.” Dean argued back with her. She was once again silent, the silence overwhelmed the table for what felt the hours before Rowena decided to break it with an innocent shrug.

   “Alright I may want something small, you won’t even miss it.”

   “Get on with it.”

   “I want to help you out because of the fact that shit is coming your way and that is going to affect everyone, including myself. If i’m going to have to choose teams I want to choose them now. However there is something else I want. I’m not saying I have the solution, only a possibility to save Ash. Although if this doesn’t work and she does end up dying I want her body.”

   “Her body?” Dean echoed 

   “You cannot have her body.” Castiel almost yelled, the few other people in the store quickly looked back to them, some of them uttering curses under their breath others just rolled their eyes and returned to their food. 

Ash looked to Dean who squeezed her hand just a bit, comforting her some more. Ash nodded slightly to him.

   “Yes.” she answered for herself. Castiel looked to her as if she had lost her mind and opened his mouth say otherwise but Ash cut him off quickly. “My body is worth nothing to me after I am dead, frankly, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

   “The big deal is that we don’t know what she wants with your body. We can’t risk it.”

   “There is nothing to risk, Castiel. If I am dead I don’t care what happens to my body, I don’t have a use for it. We do need them, Cas. Dean has nothing on how to save me and we could use all the help we could get. We should take this ‘risk’ if it means that I may not have to die at all.” 

   “Smart one…” Rowena smiled again, that same chilling smile that she gave before. Ash understood now more than ever why Dean had decided to meet with her. There was that razor sharp edge to her, of course, the side which made Ash know that something was not...normal about her. That part that made her not want to trust the red head...but then there was that part of her which did make Ash want to trust her. A more maternal, convincing side of her, like a real estate agent who could sell you the most hideous house for the price of a mansion yet make you feel so comfortable and confident about it. “It is my decision so I say yes.” Ash said finally, seeing the lingering uncertainty in Castiel and Dean’s eyes. 

   “Okay.” Dean agreed with her “You better have a plan, Rowena.”

   “Now, who exactly wants me?” Ash added “I’m only just beginning to be able to read people but you seem...serious when you were talking about how we’re going to need your help against ‘them’. Why...exactly?  _ Who  _ specifically wants me?”

   “Now that is quite a fine question.” Marlene replied, her smile dulled into a worrisome frown. 

   “We...don’t really know why or how he’s back.” Rowena took over “I’m sure you’ve heard of the murders going on around here? He is the one behind it all and quickly gaining an army to come after Ash.”

   “Okay, who is  _ he? _ ” Impatience evident in Dean’s low voice.

   “It’s Michael, he’s back.”

 

_______________________________________________

 

Sam did feel bad for going to the murder scene without Cas, all he wanted to do was help them but Sam felt the more Castiel tried to help the more he would end up getting hurt. The best thing Cas could do right now is go back to the bunker and rest. Sam did end up doing some research after Ash, Dean and Cas left to talk to Rowena. He dug around for a half hour and figured then that he could at least go and check out the murder site of the latest angel.

It was thankfully within walking distance, the alleyway was located behind a small gas station off of a not-so-major highway that Sam walked along to get to here. Only one or two cars came down the road within that time. Unless you walked down the highway there was no other houses or buildings around only a forest in front of the gas station which was probably used to smoke pot and have sex than anything else. The station seemed abandoned all except for the sleepy twenty something year old attendant at the desk inside reading over a Playboy magazine and munching on a Snickers bar. The boy didn’t even notice Sam sneak around to the back and duck beneath the yellow caution tape to get a better look at the murder scene. It looked nearly identical to every other one he had been to, in retrospect he wasn’t sure what he expected to accomplish while coming her. Maybe it was just a speck of hope that there would be more clues for him to gather, or maybe even finding the killer and being able to find out what in the world was really going on. 

Burned into the pavement was the familiar shape of large, angelic wings which reached up until the white brick wall. There wasn’t much blood stains this time, there were no weapons lying around or hidden symbols...nothing. It was rather anticlimactic, if he said so himself. Sam pulled his brown jacket over himself some more as the wind began to pick up again. 

Sam ducked back under the caution tape and walked into the convenience store which was all silent except for the light playing of the music on the overhead speakers. The man turned to look at the kid reading the magazine but stopped whatever Sam was intending to do when he saw that the stands of candy and sunglasses were knocked off of the desk and the half eaten snickers bar along with the magazine lay on the floor in front of the counter. He rushed up to the counter, looking onto the other side. The pimply faced boy laid in the corner with his eyes burnt to a crisp.

When Sam turned around almost directly behind him stood a tall man, certainly not as tall as Sam himself but nonetheless he was threatening. It’s not like he was very muscular nor did he look threatening either. In fact he looked like your average 9-5 office worker who came home to a wife and kids after a long day of work and watches whatever sport was on TV until his wife calls him in for dinner. This was no ordinary 9-5 man, the held an angel blade in his hand and a dead, cold look in his eyes. And with a deep, elegant tone he finally spoke.

   “Hello, Samuel.”


End file.
